


Loud

by GangstaCrow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dyslexia, Family Feels, Ken's a good brother, M/M, Yahaba's tryna help, i ain't mad tho, this shit strayed so far from the original plot it's not even funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GangstaCrow/pseuds/GangstaCrow
Summary: The things he's seen make him want to cry for his brother.Because no matter how many times the teachers and other parents look at him with pity, no matter how many times the boys in his grade beat him up, Shiro just looks at them all with kindness. He does it without complaining or asking for help, because he knows it would never come even if he did.Kyoutani Kentarou is quiet, and so is his little brother, Shiro. Or: Kentarou helps his dyslexic little brother.





	1. Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written that someone might actually read, so lemme know if you like it by slappin that kudos button and leaving buttloads of comments.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoutani Kentarou is quiet, and so is his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me some comments and kudos to lemme know what I'm doin right.
> 
> update (28/8/2018): revised to fit the new flashback chapter

Kyoutani Kentarou is a quiet person.  
  
His appearance and overall aura say otherwise. Dyed hair, intimidating facial mannerisms, strong disposition- everything about him is just screaming  _l_ _ook at me, look at me, look at me_. But no matter how much attention he draws with outward appearances, he never makes it a point to actively seek it out. He doesn't like to talk or yell or do anything like that.

This wasn't always the case, though he's found being quiet fits his demeanor much better than his past outspoken behavior.  
  
When people ask him about how good of a volleyball player he is, Kentarou prefers to show rather than tell. He does just that when he returns to practice, whether his teammates want to know or not. It's no secret that a majority of the team hates him; he gets to play more than they do even though he’d stopped showing up near the end of his first year. He understands of course, but he doesn't have any control over it, so sending him dirty looks when they don't think he's looking isn't going to do anything good for them in the long run.  
  
Though it is fair to mention that just because he'd stopped playing for the team didn’t mean he'd stopped playing altogether. He'd practiced at the community center to try to shape his raw power into something of substance. He'd failed obviously, he had no idea what he was doing, and this ineptitude only multiplied his frustration. However, that untapped potential was exactly what Oikawa was looking for and was what led to Kentarou being asked to come back.

Oikawa doesn’t like Kyoutani, nobody does really, but he needed an ace to take over for Iwaizumi once they graduated. Nobody at Seijoh has the raw talent Kentarou does, so Oikawa had to try to turn him into a model player before he graduated. Easier said than done.

While Kentarou isn’t talkative, he's by no means an idiot. He picks up on things the same as everybody else. He was just an easy solution to a problem Oikawa needed to fix, simple as that.  
  
That was just how things were- Oikawa needed an ace, Kentarou wanted to play the sport he loved, and even though his team hated him, he was going to play the best he could. He didn’t care about teamwork as long as he scored points and won the game.  
  
Until Yahaba had the balls to lay into him at the match with Karasuno.  
  
He hadn’t been too surprised. Even then he knew Yahaba hated him for leaving the team and made an effort to let him know every chance he got. He just expected a fight. What he got instead was a scolding, a literal _scolding_ , from a _teammate._ Nobody besides his family cared enough to want to fix his behavior, and maybe that’s what a real team was supposed to be. A second family.  
  
So even though they'd lost, even though he'd held back his tears until he made it back home at the end of the day, he found that he'd been happy.

Now, the team lets him walk home with them after practice sometimes. It's nothing inherently special, he's as silent as he normally is, but his presence is acknowledged. For the first time since starting his high school career, he actually feels like he's part of something bigger than himself.  
  
It's still slow process. Even after the third years retire, it takes the first years a little while before they come over and talk to him. It happened eventually, though Kindaichi is still mildly afraid, and things have started to become as close to normal as can be in a place like Seijoh.  
  
He has an actual routine befitting of a typical high school student. Walk to school, study during lunch, go to practice, go home, spend time with his family, do his chores, walk his dogs, do his homework, then start over the next day.  
  
There's only thing keeping Kentarou from having a relatively peaceful life. His brother, Shiro.  
  
Don’t get him wrong, he loves his little brother. He's probably the nicest kid to ever exist; he makes sure to do as he's told and he does more for people he barely knows than Kentarou would do for the few people he does.

The problem?  
  
Shiro isn’t the smartest kid around, and it causes a shitload lot of unforeseen problems.  
  
Kentarou hates admitting that there's something wrong with his brother- there isn't a decent older brother alive that would take pleasure in admitting anything like that. But his brother’s teachers, his classmates, even their neighbors know he isn’t as bright as the other kids. There's no hiding it. He can barely read, his penmanship is equally as atrocious, and he can be pretty headstrong about certain things. He does his classwork and tries ten times as hard as anybody else, but instead of passing, all he gets back are zeroes on top of zeroes on top of zeroes.  
  
He used to hate Shiro. He really did.  
  
It was around the time when he was still a stupid brash kid. Always yelling. Always making people mad. Always trying harder than he had to just to get along with the people around him when all he'd ended up doing was create an even larger divide between them _because_ he was trying so hard. Meanwhile, all Shiro had to do was smile and laugh and be himself to get more love in a minute than Kentarou had recieved in years.  
  
Kentarou had been so close to actually doing something terrible to his brother. Something he can't quite bring himself to remember yet. It makes him sick just thinking about that day, and the memories refuse to surface because of it. And while he may not remember exactly what happened, he'll never forget the aftermath.

The fear. The sadness. The disappointment. The understanding. Like everyone knew Kentarou would blow up and scorch the people around him with the intensity of his insecurities.

He tries not to think too much about that day. He can't, not without his head and his chest pounding with the force of twenty jackhammers.

What matters most is what'd happened afterwards. Nothing has been the same, for better or worse. He sees the way Shiro keeps his distance now, like he's a wild animal that could snap at any moment.

His mother's making him see a shrink now. He talks to them, actively trying to ease himself into letting out all of the things he's refused to say to anyone. They put him on medication to help with anxiety and anger and a whole bunch of other technical shit he doesn’t remember. He's learned how to deal with all those thoughts stuck in his head and steadily gotten to a point where he can function like a decent human being.

Kentarou doesn't deserve all of this help, not when his brother has to go through hell on a daily basis and he's done so much more in such little time.  
  
But no matter how many times the teachers and other parents look at him with pity, no matter how many times the boys at his school beat him up, Shiro just looks at them all with kindness. He does it without complaining or asking for help, because he knows it would never come. He doesn't throw tantrums like Kentarou would have, no, he sits there and takes it.  
  
Kyoutani Kentarou is quiet, and so is his little brother, Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever writing piece that might actually be read by someone besides myself. Leave comments and kudos to show your support and help me improve!
> 
> update (28/8/2018): I'm gonna be rewriting certain scenes from this story to see if I can get rid of some of these skips/horizontal lines.


	2. Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro finds a cat for a classmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update (23/8/2018): added a couple new kyouhaba scenes

Kentarou truly witnesses the extent of his brother’s compassion during his third year. There isn't practice on Monday's, so the former third years have surprised them with a brief visit. They decide to go out to eat and unanimously agree that Oikawa and Yahaba are going to pay together under the guise of if being their jobs as the current and former captain. Kindaichi suggests a nearby udon shop, and Kentarou finds himself walking silently behind Yahaba and Watari at the back of the group. As he’s thinking about what he wants, because he's obviously going to order as many toppings as possible, his mind drifts to Shiro.  
  
Shiro likes udon. He should take him out to eat over the weekend. He deserves it for sticking it out this long.  
  
Laughter from the group in front of him drags Kentarou out of his thoughts, making him glance around to ensure he doesn't bump into anyone. From the corner of his eye, he can see a cropped head of hair dive behind a trash can after a grey blurb.  
  
He stops walking.

It's no secret that Kentarou loves animals. While his brother shares that same affection, he isn’t always on the receiving end, as evidenced by the numerous scratches lining the arms of the child standing across the street. If Kentarou didn't care enough to really look at him, he'd of thought Shiro was just some random homeless kid.

To be perfectly honest though, Kentarou's kind of curious to know why Shiro looks like he's spent the past three hours playing in a junkyard. Kentarou slips away from the group- it isn’t hard, Oikawa’s whining about picking up the tab is keeping everyone thoroughly distracted.  
  
In the time it'd taken Kentarou to cross the street, Shiro has a squirming gray kitten in his arms, whispering to it even as the ball of fluff is hissing and trying to worm its way out. Kentarou has to take a minute to adjust before he says anything. His brother is a carbon copy of him as a child- chubby cheeks, dark hair, golden eyes- and sometimes looking at him is very... surreal. Huh. Imagine that.

When Shiro sees him, his face lights up.  
  
Now, Kentarou will admit that he doesn’t smile much. But even if he did, it wouldn’t be nearly as amazing as his little brother’s. There’s just so much emotion, pure wonder and delight packed into such a small package. It's like the sun decided to bestow its blessing on a human to help spread the light on the Earth's surface.  
  
Kentarou ruffles his brother’s hair with what he will reluctantly admit can be classified as a grin, hand drifting down to scratch the cat's head briefly. “What’re you doing?”  
  
Shiro pauses. The kitten, who seems to have calmed down quite a bit at Kentarou's touch, isn't scratching at Shiro's arms anymore. Kentarou makes a mental note to check on him when they get home, because doing it now would only make their mother’s job harder since she's had much more experience dealing with shit like this. Shifting the kitten in his arms, Shiro explains it in a single breathy sentence. “A girl in my class was crying today because her cat snuck out and she couldn’t find him so I found it for her so she and her friends wouldn't be mega depressed.”  
  
If it were anybody else, Kentarou would've asked why he'd have done something so tedious, and if it was due to a crush, then he'd of laughed his ass off.  
  
But Kentarou knows his brother better than that.  
  
He isn’t helping some girl in his class because he likes her. He’s doing it because it’s the right thing to do. He isn’t smart, he doesn’t have any friends, and overall people, think he’s useless. This is the only thing he can do that people can’t look down on him for.  
  
Kentarou sighs, giving Shiro a pat on the back. “Hurry and give it back to her so you can head home. Mom’s gonna worry if you stay out too long.”  
  
Shiro nods, starting to jog down the street before he can even finish his sentence. When Kentarou sees Shiro round the corner, Kentarou starts catching up to his team.

He doesn't expect them to notice he was gone, and they don't for the most part. It's Yahaba who turns to him when he takes his place behind everyone, eyebrow raised and questions almost spilling from his lips. Kentarou pretends not to see in the hopes that Yahaba won't voice them.

It doesn't work. As soon as Iwaizumi gets the group walking again, Yahaba let's Watari inch ahead so Kentarou can catch up. Kentarou's only next to him for a quarter of a second when Yahaba's arm snakes out, taking firm hold of his wrist. Yahaba's eyes bore into his. "Where've you been? I thought you up and left when I didn't see you behind us."

If Kentarou didn't know any better, he'd of thought Yahaba actually cared about where he'd been. His heart would beat out of his chest, the tips of his ears would flush, and his entire body would tense up.

Luckily, Kentarou  _does_ know better. At least a little bit. Enough to tell himself that Yahaba's probably more concerned with him trying to skip out on team bonding, that he shouldn't look for hidden layers when there are none, and he most certainly shouldn't like the way the bridge of Yahaba's nose creases when he's worried, because that's not normal Kentarou.

"I saw a cat." It's a half truth, not a lie. Kentarou tells himself that the reason he doesn't shake off Yahaba's hand because he wants to make sure he doesn't press him any further, nothing more nothing less.

He also tells himself the warmth on his wrist is just his endorphins running high from walking.

Yahaba can't find any reason not to believe him, and he releases Kentarou's wrist with clear hesitation. Kentarou has to once again remind himself that it's because Yahaba wants to make sure he can't run off again, not because he wants to touch him dammit!

Yahaba grins sheepishly. "Sorry. But please just tell me next time, okay? I thought you got tired and went home."

Kentarou's heart almost leaps from his chest when he forced himself to grumble. "Sure."

The smile he gets for agreeing has no right to be that bright, and Kentarou's a freak for not replying with the  _what are you, my babysitter?_ he wanted to just so he could see it.

Though when he thinks of that afternoon in the future,  Kentarou will take obvious notice of the wandering eyes of the most perceptive captain Aoba Johsai's history as he crosses the street to talk to a little boy who looks like hell.

 

* * *

 

It’s after practice three days later that he's asked about it.  
  
Kentarou's just finished changing, and he's in a rush to get home. He still has some chores to finish, and the dogs need a bath because he knows he's going to forget about it tomorrow. He doesn’t make it more than five feet away from his locker before Iwaizumi and Oikawa walk up to him.  
  
Hands in his pockets, smooth delivery. “Hey Kyoutani, we need to talk to you for a second.” So straightforward and nonchalant, no hesitation whatsoever. Iwaizumi really is the coolest.

It's a bit odd that he's coming up to Kentarou now though, especially when he's clearly in a hurry, but he isn't complaining. Iwaizumi almost never wants to talk one-on-one. Er, one-on-one plus Oikawa. He hopes it's tips on how to get better at receives, because while he'll never admit it to Yahaba, his are the worst on the team.

Nope. It's not about volleyball.

Oikawa clears his throat, uncharacteristically polite with his word choice. “What Iwa-chan meant to say was that we wanted to ask about that boy you were talking to the other day. You seemed very close.” His voice lacks its usual humor. He has that calculating look in his eyes.  
  
Kentarou hates it. It takes everything in him to stay calm instead of going on the defensive.

But he still doesn’t understand why they're asking about Shiro. Confused edge to his voice, Kentarou immediately replies. “You mean my brother? What about him?”

Iwaizumi doesn't like that, because the neutral expression on his face drops into a frown. “Just wanted to know if the two of you were okay. Normally we’d stay out of your business, but if anything’s going on with you, we wanted to know before it got out of hand.” Iwaizumi seems a bit more reluctant, but Oikawa's looking him dead in the eye, making Kentarou see ominously unfamiliar undertones with edges so sharp he can't tell if they're real or not.  
  
_If something's up, let us know now so we can help before you get kicked off the team or something. I brought you back to be Yahaba’s ace, not to screw it up for everyone and drive the team into the ground_.

He isn’t sure what they think is "going on" with him, but he isn’t sure he'd like to know. There’s a pang in his chest at the thought that people still think he's some sort of neanderthal. He chooses to ignore it.

“That’s just the way he is. He's just trying to help people.” Kentarou's voice is gruff and saddled with impatience. He thinks that's the end of the discussion, so he's unprepared for Iwaizumi intercepting him as he moves to leave, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

Oikawa's the one to speak up though, his expression mirroring Iwaizumi’s. “Why would he be doing stuff like that if it hurts hi that badly?”  
  
Kentarou doesn’t know what to say.  
  
What is he _supposed_ to say? That his brother’s just trying not to be the useless moron that everybody seems to think he is? Do they realize what kind of position that would put him in as the guy who can't even take care of his brother, the harassment Shiro would face if word got out?  
  
He doesn’t know what answer to give them, so he doesn’t give one at all.  
  
Kentarou walks away from his upperclassmen, leaving them in puzzled silence.


	3. Yahaba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yahaba goes to Kentarou's house to study, meets Shiro, and does what Kentarou never could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update (23/8/18): This chapter consists of what used to be chapters 3-5. Isn't that neat?

The first person he formally introduces his brother to is Yahaba.  
  
Kentarou and Yahaba have this thing between them now. It's been there since they'd given each other awkward apologies for how they'd fucked up in the past. It was stuffy and weird and experimental, but not bad. It was just... different.

They'd progressively began to spend more time together, and it wasn't hard to guess what came next. Kentarou isn't a complete idiot. It's not like a relationship between them is entirely impossible, they get along in their own way.

Unless of course Kentarou has once again been allowing his sleep deprived mind to delude his thoughts. Which also isn't entirely impossible considering the amount of times Yahaba's been the last thing on his mind before he lays down.  
  
Yahaba forcing his way into what used to be Kentarou's alone time doesn't help matter. Sitting with him at lunch, tagging along when he buys sports tape, making Kentarou study with him on Friday and the weekends. It never ends.

Okay, so he is a little grateful for the last one. He knows he could fight it if he really wanted to, but outward displays of stubbornness aside, he really does suck at Japanese. Traditional literature has never been his strong suit. While Kentarou knows his scores aren’t too terrible- slightly below average, maybe lower on a bad day- he knows full well he'd only benefit from the extra help.  
  
They leave the club room together on Friday, and Kentarou ignores the pointed look being sent his way by Watari, because he doesn't need his face turning into a tomato so he can suffer through teasing the entire twenty minute walk to his house.  
  
They fall into a nice rhythm almost immediately after they set out. It's a fair distance, but the quiet is filled with Yahaba's mindless chatter about potential strategies for their next practice match. When Kentarou feels their hands occasionally brush against one another, his skin feels so hot has to hurriedly stuff his hands into his pockets to keep Yahaba from feeling their heat. If Yahaba sees him do it, he doesn't mention it as he keeps yammering away.

His neighborhood is pretty nice. They aren't super rich or anything, but he's seem their income. They live fairly comfortably. Kentarou's pulling his key from his pocket, about to make a comment about Yahaba's insistance on making him spend time with Kindaichi, when the front door swings open.  
  
Two balls of fluff fly into the walkway, both smelling shoes and yipping in happiness when they see Kentarou with a new face. Yahaba briefly crouches down to let one smell his hand and he quickly pets it before the dog starts running around in excitement again. As soon as he straightens back up, out walks Shiro.

Well, more like half runs and trips over his own feet before getting right back up.  
  
He's as hyperactive as he always is. It's a bit strange for people meeting him for the first time, but Kentarou's gotten used to it enough not to comment on it. “I have to walk the dogs before they pee everywhere and mom take away my lizard!” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he speeds away after their two little akitas.  
  
They stand there for a minute to process the whirlwind that is Shiro. He can only imagine how bizarre that was for Yahaba. Kentarou's holding his breath when Yahaba finally decides to speak. “That’s your brother?”  
  
Still holding it. “Yeah.”  
  
“How old is he?”  
  
“Six.”  
  
“What’s his name?”  
  
“Shiro.”  
  
When Kentarou sees the corner of Yahaba's lip curve upward, he finally lets himself breathe again. “He seems nice. I have no idea where he gets it from considering how sour _you_ are on a daily basis.”  
  
He scoffs, shoving Yahaba as he walks past to hold the door open for him. "And whose fault do you think that is?"  
  
Yahaba laughs. Kentarou likes the sound.

Kentarou knows full well his house is amazing. He isn't a vain person, it's just a fact, and he'll say it as many times as he has to until people believe him. But when he hears Yahaba suck in a breath when he eyes their entryway, spacious enough for more than three people to stand in addition to a rack for people to put their shoes, his pride skyrockets.

Yahaba seems to be in a daze as he toes off his shoes, slipping into the slippers Kentarou offers him without ever looking at him. "Dude, you never told me your house was this big."

He has. But he doesn't remind him, not when Yahaba's buzzing around like a hummingbird, paying attention to any and everything that tickles his fancy. A picture of a bee his brother painted. Their Christmas picture from last year. His parent's wedding photo. A vase with daisies sitting next to a candy dish filled with mints.

Kentarou leaves Yahaba to roam around the hall leading from entryway, making his way to the couch to drop his bag on the floor before plopping down. He should really go get his clothes from upstairs and dump them in the washer real quick. He's going to forget to do it before bed and he knows damn well his father's going to nag him for it tomorrow. But he can't find it in him to care when Yahaba's whistling and gushing in envy over whatever he sets his sights on. It doesn't stop when he finally decides to enter the living room, and Kentarou can feel himself tense a little.

Aside from the square footage, it's not that great. His parents didn't want to settle for a typical Japanese or western style setup, so they have this weird combination of both. They have a dark brown couch with the kotatsu they've taken out of storage early sitting in front of it. Their flatscreen is hanging on the opposite wall with an entertainment system underneath it holding their game systems, dvd's, and cd's. Their formal dining room table can be seen in the next room, though it's littered with a bunch of sketchbooks and papers.

Yahaba makes another praising comment under his breath, and Kentarou feels himself frown a little. "You don't have to pretend to like it. I know it's weird."

Yahaba turns to him as if he's crazy. "Pretend? Kyoutani, your living room is three times as big as mine! Why would anyone have to pretend to like it?"

He doesn't blush. Shut up. "Don't give me that look. This place is obviously having an identity crisis."

Again, looking at him like he's gone insane. "Did you forget how much everything in here costs? If I could afford it, I'd decorate however the hell I wanted too!"

And if Kentarou snorts at Yahaba's swearing, it's because it's contrary to his character, not to hide his embarrassment, because he's  _not_ embarrassed. At all.

Shut up.

Yahaba settles down enough to sit on the couch next to him, though he makes no move to take out his work. Neither does Kentarou. "What was that whole thing about a lizard?"

What? "What're you talking about?"

Yahaba rolls his eyes. "Your brother mentioned a lizard before he left. I wanna see it."

"Dude."

"What?"

"If you were stuck on that one thing this whole time then you really are Oikawa's kouhai."

"Screw off! It's hard to forget things when they're presented in an interesting way!"

He can't argue with that, but barging into his brother's room just to impress Yahaba with a bearded dragon isn't something he's keen on doing. Instead, Kentarou wordlessly leans forward to grab his bag. Yahaba opens his mouth to pester him about it more before he sees him pull out a notebook.

Yahaba squints at him. "This isn't over. I'm gonna see that lizard, and you're going to be the one to show me."

It's Kentarou's turn to roll his eyes, though he feels an exceptionally prevalent _thump_ in his chest. "Sure."

Yahaba hits him for that. "Just let me see what you've got."

When Kentarou hands over his notes, his finger taps Yahaba's. The fact that he feels something as insignificant as that is enough to make him want to disappear into the couch.

Yahaba's scanning over his notes, picking apart things he's written wrong or pointing out anything he's missed. Kentarou searches through his bag to find something for Yahaba to write with when he knocks something off the edge of the couch. He ignores it to keep looking until he hears high pitched English coming from the tv. It nearly makes him jump, and he scrambles to turn it off again.

Yahaba's eyeing him curiously. "I didn't know you watched western cartoons. No wonder you're so good at English."

Kentarou sets the remote on the kotatsu as far away from him as possible. He shoves his hand back into his bag to grab hold of a green pen and passes it to Yahaba, who starts writing in the margins of Kentarou's notes. "I'd be more worried about the movies."

"Why is that?"

"I watched The Godfather when I was eight and Scarface when I was nine."

"You can't be serious. Is  _that_ why you're so scary?"

"Nah, this is just who I am naturally. Back when I tried to act like the assholes in the movies, I was loud as hell."

Yahaba smiles. "You're lying."

"Swear to god. Always screaming, always picking fights with people. I was like that bald guy from Karasuno except I actually followed through."

Yahaba shakes his head, the ghost of a laugh falling from his lips. "You better not let your brother watch them then."

"What makes you think he hasn't?"

The laugh he gets in response makes Kentarou's heart do a crazy backflip.

Kentarou hears the creaking of the front door and the padding of paws against the floor. Kentarou glances at the entrance to the living room while Yahaba's still got his head shoved in Kentarou's notes. When Shiro walks by, his eyes are immediately drawn to his split lip.

He doesn't say anything about it as he watches him retreat to the kitchen. The water from the sink can clearly be heard due to the quiet of the rest of the house. Kentarou can hear faint hisses of pain, and he stands. "You want something to drink?"

Yahaba waves him off. "I'm fine."

Kentarou leaves him there anyway. He can hear a chair dragging against the floor of the dining room and the kitchen. When he enters the kitchen, the sound stops. Shiro's halfway between the fridge and the entrance to the dining room, frozen in place, like if he doesn't move Kentarou won't see him.

Kentarou has to ask. "What're you doing?"

Shiro doesn't say anything. He doesn't move. He doesn't even turn his head towards Kentarou, probably to hide his fucked up lip.

Kentarou rolls his eyes, grabbing a sandwich bag from a drawer before opening the freezer. "You could've just asked."

Shiro huffs. "You were busy. And I could've gotten it by myself."

Kentarou snorts, scooping ice into the bag and sealing it shut. "With a chair you could have. But it's faster to come ask me to get it for you."

He hands the bag to Shiro, who gives in and turns to face him. All in all, it doesn't look as bad without the blood. A little bit of swelling that'll go down in a day or two, but nothing too serious.

Shiro doesn't say who did it. Kentarou's learned not to ask.

"Kyoutani, I know you like to abbreviate things when you write, but can you not shorten analytical to anal and then make jokes in the margins about it? That's probably why you can't focus-"

Shiro freezes again. Kentarou feels the needs to remind him that it doesn't make him invisible, but maybe the kid feels like he needs to at least pretend to be. He knows he would if he were in his position.

Yahaba walks into the kitchen like he lives here, waving around Kentarou's notebook like trying to dissuade his insistant use of the word anal whenever applicable is some regular occurrence. But when he realizes he's walked into something he shouldn't have, Yahaba is rightfully taken aback. He's not embarrassed or ashamed per se, just caught off guard.

And when Yahaba notices the split lip and the bag of ice, Yahaba sends him a look.

A warning for an upcoming interrogation.  
  
For some reason, Kentarou doesn't dread it.

As soon as Yahaba takes his eyes off Shiro, the kid bolts. He shoots past Yahaba to run upstairs, the only sound being the faint slapping of his slippers against the floor.

Kentarou stays put. There's nowhere for him to go, nowhere to hide since the only way out this is to kick Yahaba out, and he'd never do that. Never.  
  
Yahaba crosses his arms. "Are you going to explain what that was about, or am I just going to have to assume the worst?"  
  
_Fuck._  He can try to tell himself this is fine as many times he want, but honestly, he still isn’t ready. He can't do this. His mouth runs dry. His legs turn to jelly, but he’s too tense to fall.  
  
He’s changed his mind. He doesn’t want to do this.  
  
But he doesn’t let Yahaba know that.

He crosses his arms right back, avoiding all eye contact whatsoever.  
  
Yahaba doesn’t like that. “Do you want me to tell you what this looks like?”  
  
And Kentarou doesn't like _that,_ not one bit. "I fucking know what it looks like asshole. Don't try to preach to me.”  
  
Here comes the sass. He can already tell by the way Yahaba's hands move to rest on his hips. "Really? Because you say that, yet you're standing there pretending that someone seeing you and your brother, who obviously got beat, alone together, isn't something to worry about."  
  
If Kentarou sneers, it's not entirely his fault. "If you know so much, then why're you still here, huh? If you think I'm such a piece of shit-"

"Because I know you dammit! But not everybody cares enough to want to!"  
  
The room fills with suffocating silence. Kentarou tries to settle his breathing to calm himself. He hadn't even realized it'd picked up until now.  
  
Yahaba sighs. Quiet. Not angry or disappointed or accusatory. “Ken.” His voice is delicate, like he’s trying to coax a timid animal to come out of its cage.

It's demeaning to admit that it actually works. Kentarou doesn’t know what to do though. All he can muster up is a small. “Whatever.”  
  
“Talk to me. I just wanna help you.”  
  
He knows that. Of course he fucking knows that. All he ever sees when he looks at Yahaba is someone who cares too much about someone who doesn't deserve it, distress hidden beneath layers of irritation and annoyance if he's off his game for even a second.  
  
But how is he supposed to help with something like this?

"I don't have to know how. We can do it together."

Does admitting this is what breaks him down make him less of a man? He isn't sure. He hopes not.

It's on this day, two months into their third year, that Kentarou tells Yahaba that his little brother can't read even though he's in his first year of elementary school. How his parents thought it was fine, he just needed a little extra time. How he still can't read three months into the school year. How the relatively small amount of homework assignments first graders are assigned keep piling up since he can't read the directions. How he does chores for their neighbors to distract himself from the papers covered in red marks sitting on the dining room table. How spiteful boys at school start to realize he's different and try to beat him up.

And when Yahaba's shoulders sag, when he crosses the thin line separating the two of them to take him into his arms with apologies for even insinuating Kentarou would strike his family, Kentarou almosts lets himself finish.

He nearly tells Yahaba that the only reason Kentarou let him come over today was because he knows Shiro gets beat up at the end of every week. How he knows Yahaba is strong and smart enough to actually do something about this. How Kentarou can’t go to sleep without feeling like a failure because he has to rely on strangers to do his dirty work for him because he's so fucking weak and pitiful it's killing him.  
  
He nearly does it. But for now, he relishes in the warmth of Yahaba's head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around him in a stiff embrace Kentarou that can't return without having the last crack in his walls grow beyond repair.

 

* * *

 

It only takes two days for Yahaba to do something. The guy doesn't waste any time asking if he can tell the person he feels is the most qualified to help about the situation, and while Kentarou will begrudgingly admit he's right, it's still a pain.

Kentarou still isn't sure how he found the time to fill Oikawa in on what was going on, but apparently it was only a thirty second phone call with enough information to get Oikawa to visit the gym after practice on Sunday to drag Iwaizumi and Yahaba to Kentarou's house.

Did he ask if they could come over? He most certainly did not, but Kentarou isn't really in a position to argue.

Kentarou and Yahaba lead Oikawa and Iwaizumi to his house, all the while Kentarou's trying to tell himself not to get irrationally angry, this is fine, this is a good thing. He tries to focus on the cracks in the sidewalk to steady himself. Oikawa speaks about his classes at university and how he misses being able to see Iwaizumi everyday, which earns him a slap on the back of the head for "inciting idiocy." He's tempted to ask when this little vacation is going to be over and when they’d be going back to school, but he holds his tongue knowing it'd come out much ruder than he wants it to.

He’ll never say it outright, but he's glad they're coming. Yahaba and Oikawa are observant enough to be able to tell what the problem is and how to fix it. Shiro knows Iwaizumi from all the times he's watched them play against Shiratorizawa on tv, so he'll at least feel some semblance of comfort.

A repeat of yesterday's gawking session when they reach his house makes Kentarou's face burn, and he ignores the smirk Yahaba sends his way in favor or hurrying inside. More gawking. More frustrating embarrassment.

They sit in his living room where Yahaba and Oikawa discuss something in low whispers. Iwaizumi asks why there's a kotatau in front of the couch when it's the middle of June and why there's a bag of crickets on it.

He sends Yahaba a look. He gets a glare in return.

Kentarou glances out the window when he hears a particularly loud cicada to see Shiro walking through the gate of the house with fresh cuts and the beginnings of new bruises.

He’d briefly forgotten that this sort of stuff could happen randomly since it hasn’t happened on a day that wasn't a Saturday- or the very rare Friday like yesterday- in at least a month.

Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Yahaba don't know he's here yet. Kentarou considers getting up to warn him that he has friends over, but when the front door opens, Shiro takes his shoes off and walks into the living room while voicing a greeting.

Kentarou can pinpoint the exact moment he realizes he's made a mistake.

They're staring at him. It's uncomfortable to look, so he has no clue how it would feel to be the subject of the staring.

Then they go into full blown mother goose mode.

Okay, it's not  _that_ dramatic, but they _are_ acting like Shiro's their child and not some kid they literally just met. To be fair, Iwaizumi was trying to be nonchalant about it, but he was probably the most worried out of all of them.

He could see it in his eyes. The mother hen eyes.

Kentarou left the room for two minutes to get the first aid kit and came back to see his brother just chilling on the couch with a pleasantly surprised look on his face at not only coming face to face with two volleyball stars he's only ever seen on tv, but at being the uncontested center of attention for something good for once.

When Kentarou approaches with a cotton ball soaked with antiseptic for his cuts, Shiro's preoccupied with the two people in front in him.

Iwaizumi readily introduces himself, and Yahaba follows suits, yet Oikawa is silent. Huh. For someone who was so eager to be here, Oikawa doesn’t have much to say to Shiro. He's just sitting there watching him.

He's using those weird eyes. Kentarou opts not to have an opinion about it.

Shiro doesn’t care. He’s still looking back and forth between the people in front of him with so much going through his head that it makes Kentarou feel tired just looking at him.

“Why’d you get beat up?” Iwaizumi’s voice is tame, like he’s trying not to scare Shiro away. Kentarou can’t figure out why. Usually, kids are usually more afraid of him than people like Iwaizumi.

But when he answers, Shiro’s face morphs into something he can't quite place. “A girl confessed to me today, but when I turned her down, her brother got mad. Said I should've been grateful that someone as amazing as her liked me.”

That makes everyone stop what they’re doing to _really_ look at Shiro.

The corners of his eyes are red, face flushed- from embarrassment, sadness, or adrenaline, Kentarou isn’t sure- and he looks like he’s been to hell and back.

Oikawa’s face is empathetic. He's probably had to deal with more enraged family members than anyone else in the workd. Iwaizumi just looks irritated. He probably doesn’t get the mindset of boys who do that kind of thing. Or maybe he does and looks down on them. Kentarou isn't sure which it is.

Yahaba’s is a copy of his own, of pride and just a hint of pity. At least there are some people who like Shiro, but confessions are tough to deal with in general.

“Well, at least something good happened today right?” Oikawa finally speaks up, signature smile adorning his face.

Shiro shrugs meekly. “I guess. But I don't really know what to do now. She sits next to me at school.”

Kentarou tosses a few band aids into Shiro's lap. "Don't make it weird, she'll move on eventually. Unless you said 'that's rad', because then she'll probably hate you."

Shiro puffs out his cheeks, sticking his tongue out at him. "At least I didn't just say thanks and walk away, stupid onii-chan!"

He sees Yahaba smirking at him, and Kentarou swear that if he tries to ask him about this later, Kentarou's going to jump off a bridge.

Oikawa's helping Shiro put on his band aids as Iwaizumi stands, towering over them with a combination of intimation, strength, and the undeniable coolness that is Iwaizumi Hajime.

Then the smile.

_Holy fuck._

How did Oikawa manage to be the heartbreaker between then two of them? “How about we start on some homework? That’ll take your mind off things right?”

Kentarou sees Shiro shoot him a look of dread at the suggestion, but he doesn't refuse. He gives the slowest nod of the century for sure, but he agrees.

Kentarou packs up the first aid kit to return it back to the closet upstairs. Yahaba's giving him this thin lipped frown, though he has no idea why.

When he comes back downstairs, everyone is piled around the dining room table. Shiro’s work is already spread out everywhere from earlier this morning when he'd dumped it out to make room for rocks or something. Oikawa and Yahaba are playing a more active role in terms of helping while Iwaizumi is sitting there offering words of encouragement off to the side.

Actually, Iwaizumi is trying to coax one of the dogs out of her bed to come say hi, but she's too scared and stays put. He looks like he's about to cry.

Yahaba spends some time going over some things from a few of Shiro's workbooks. There are a few mistakes here and there, but overall he seems to understand it, though he becomes visibly frustrated now when he's asked to practice his grammar on paper. Math is fine, but the minute he's asked to write anything he can't do it legibly. He does this thing with the pencil that seems to be uncomfortable, and it's plainly obvious he's struggling. It doesn’t help that Oikawa's trying to decipher past worksheets that are littered with red marks. Even as Shiro tries his best to tell Oikawa what he wrote, most of the time he doesn’t know himself, so he ends up making a face before ignoring him.

At least he wrote something on those papers. There are a multitude that don’t have anything save for his name.

Oikawa’s fishing through a few papers that fell on the floor when he spots a neon blue one, eye widening.

“Shiro-chan, when did you get this score?” He sounds so astonished that Shiro can’t help but scoot over. His face immediately turns into that of indifference, making a move to go back next to Yahaba.

“A few days ago, but apparently I cheated.”

Kentarou decides to speak up, disapproval clear in his voice. “What do you mean 'apparently'?"

"It means I cheated even though I didn't know I did. Duh." If he says _duh_ to him one more time, Kentarou might scream.

Yahaba can feel his annoyance. "What he meant to ask was did you intentionally cheat?"

Shiro blinks. "Oh. No. But my teacher said I did."

Oikawa sputters as if personally wronged. "They said you cheated without proof?”

Shiro nods, crossing his arms as he grumbles. “Yeah, she didn’t check or anything, just said I was. And when I tried to retake it, she made me write it weird because she said the other way was wrong.”

Iwaizumi looks so damn confused, and Kentarou isn't doing any better, muttering under his breath. "What does that even mean?”

Shiro throws up his hands in exasperation, annoyance evident in his voice. “I don't know! I thought it was a grown up thing!”

Iwaizumi sighs. "Well I guess we aren't grown up enough, because I'm lost."

Kentarou nods. "Ditto."

Yahaba puts down the math book he was about to hand Shiro, turning to look at him. “Can you go get your other books from your room?”

It’s a legitimate request, and Shiro gets up to do it. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Yahaba leans toward Oikawa. “What’d he get?”

Oikawa places the paper on the table for all of them to see. It’s one of Shiro’s old grammar quizzes. Aside from the utterly atrocious penmanship, there aren't any incorrect answers. Everything was fine. So fine that the neon blue paper had a perfect score, but rather than an encouraging comment from a teacher, there's a brief note saying ‘see me immediately after class’.

Oikawa doesn’t mention the note when he speaks. “I know what’s going on with him.”

Kentarou forgets how to breath. Yahaba ignores him and motions for Oikawa to continue. Rude, but he'll let it slide.

Oikawa picks up five other papers on the same subject, all white, placing them side by side on the table next to the blue one. “The day they printed this, they probably ran out of white paper, so they put colored sheets into the copy machine.”

Kentarou can’t help himself. He cuts Oikawa off. “I don’t get it.”

He isn’t deterred by the abrupt interruption and he continues. “It's because of the color of the paper. His brain probably can't register the black ink on regular white paper, so he can’t read it.” He leans over to tap on the correction marks and teacher comments, all written in either red, green, blue, or purple pen. “He can see these fine since it’s a contrast against the white, but everything else is probably a mess to him. It's the same with the board- using black dry erase marker on a white board or white chalk on a blackboard. The colors are what help him.” He focuses on Kentarou as he removes his hand from the table. “Ask your parents to get him tinted reading glasses in light blue. He can wear them when doing his work so he doesn’t have to go through the trouble of using dividers or sheet covers.”

Kentarou feels like the biggest moron on the fucking planet. Something as simple as tinted glasses could've fixed all of this shit a long time ago, but no, Kentarou just had to be the older brother who's as blind as a fucking bat.

Kentarou forces himself to nod and turns to Yahaba, who’s been listening intently with a hand under his chin as he hums in agreement. “It makes sense. Shiro understands the material when you explain it properly, so he isn’t stupid. His teacher might be explaining things too fast or not enough in detail. It-”

Yahaba stops mid sentence to calmly gather the papers on the table in a neat stack as Shiro walks into the room, arms filled with books.

“Sorry, I got distracted by my lizard." He looks so serious while saying it that Kentarou almost laughs. He really does when Iwaizumi sits up so fast his knee slams against the edge of the table.

Oikawa waves it off with a smile, blatantly ignoring the two of them. Kentarou can’t figure out how he can do that fake ass smile all the time without getting stuck like that. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s just get back to work.”

Shiro groans, taking his seat next to Yahaba again. He seems to have calmed down though, and Kentarou’s just glad he hasn't walked out the house to go do something else off like he usually does.

Yahaba hands him a pencil, but before he can give him math problems, Oikawa gives him the quiz he'd already passed. Shiro’s face drops and he turns to argue, but Oikawa holds up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

“Try this again by writing the way you feel most comfortable. Shi-chan can check it to make sure you get them all right again.”

Shiro looks skeptical, but it’s hard for him to argue with the way Oikawa is looking at him.

Shiro picks up the pencil with his left to answer the questions, and the result is drastically different. The hesitation and discomfort from before has disappeared. The writing's as perfect as can be for a first grader.

The only thing Kentarou is thinking about, aside from Iwaizumi trying to figure out how to ask of they can go see Shiro's pet lizard, is why a first grade teacher is telling Shiro that writing with his left hand is wrong when it's clearly his dominant hand? Are they regular stupid or a special brand of stupid?

When Yahaba checks over the quiz and Shiro’s gets a perfect score, he gets to see that blinding smile again as Iwaizumi ruffles his hair and says they should all go feed his lizard some crickets to celebrate.

But even as Shiro finally looks like he's going to be okay, Kentarou can’t help but heed the resounding screams inside his head that remind him of his failure.


	4. Mad Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mad Dog origin story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update (23/8/2018): revised the events leading up to ken's breakdown and subsequent recovery

_The start of November brings a chill so sharp that it goes beyond preparing them for a winter. Judging by the briskness of the air, it seems nature has decided to throw them straight into the remedial period of what is going to be a harsh three months. Brown, red, orange, and yellow litter the streets as parents ensure their children do their chores before the temperature drops at night._

_Kentarou listens to his teacher drone on at the front of the room, leaning his head against his palm. He’s taken to doodling in his notebook, dogs and bees and volleyballs scattered throughout the margins of his notes. It’s a decent distraction, but he still isn’t completely focused on it. A quick glance around the classroom is just as uneventful. The same girls staring at the same guys, the same guys trying to get the attention of their friends. Kentarou returns his attention back to the front of the room._

_His history teacher is nice enough, but he doesn’t particularly care for her. He doesn’t care for any of his teachers really. They only put in faith in students who are outgoing and sociable. One could argue that he_ does _qualify as both, though an obnoxious delinquent is unbefitting of a potential favorite student_ _._

_But Kentarou doesn’t mind. What good would having a teacher like him do? They don't matter to him._

_So when he accidentally makes eye contact with said teacher, and she even goes onto smile at him, he flinches slightly. This doesn’t go unnoticed by her as she gently places her chalk on the edge of the blackboard. Kentarou sinks lower into his seat so he doesn’t draw any more attention to himself._

_His teachers claps her hands a couple of times to get rid herself of any remaining chalk dust, smile widening as she addresses the entire class._

_“I know things are a little… uninteresting, so to speak, since everyone's mind is set on doing some early shopping for the holiday season. Which is why instead of having me repeat what you already know, I’ve assigned you partners…”_

_A few groans from the corner of the room, but everyone else is quiet. They don’t have an issue with it. She continues._

_“... for a research paper demonstrating you already know the material. Don't worry, this will only take a few weeks. Plenty of time to good off on the holidays. Please listen for your name along with who you’ll be working with.”_

_Kentarou is relieved; he doesn’t want to have to go through the headache of pairing up with someone who either wouldn’t do their share of the work or tried to dominate the whole thing. Halfway through the list, he gets anxious. Most of the people that are known to be hard workers are already taken._

_“Mizuki and Akihisa.”_

_“Hoshi and Jun.”_

_“Hatake and Kano.”_

_“Kyoutani and Ranmaru.”_

_The rest of the names are nothing but white noise in Kentarou’s ears. Ranmaru. He’s heard the name a few times in class, but he doesn’t know him personally._

_He better not be a prick. Kentarou has better things to do than spend this project curbing some kid he barely knows._

_Once she finishes reading the rest of the list, she gives them a brief amount of free time in class to start planning their project before the bell rings. They have three weeks to work on it. They aren’t going to have much time to work during school, so they have to work it out amongst themselves._

_Before Kentarou can stand to start his search for his partner, the plain looking brunette boy sitting in front of him turns around with a grin._

_“Hey, so I know we don’t talk much, but let’s do our best on this, okay?”_

_Kentarou's at a loss for what to say. He nods as the boy eagerly writes his information on a slip of paper, motioning for Kentarou to do the same._

_They make a brief plan before class is over: meet at Kentarou’s house on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday after their respective sports end. They agree to split up the work by sticking with their strengths, and are surprised to find no overlaps. They each make up for what one of them lacks. When they can’t meet during the week, they’ll just have to call and text each other to voice any questions or comments._

_Their plans quickly shift into more than a research project. Even when they weren’t working on the project, the two of them tend to stick closer to each other than anyone else. Talking about sports and their hobbies is enough to keep a conversation going, so much so that they often find themselves spending a few of their lunch periods with each rather than with their usual group._ _Or in Kentarou's case, in an empty stairwell listening to loud music._

_Today was one of those days._

_They've just finished their last class of the day, Ramaru talking aimlessly about all the girls who’ve confessed to him and how it was a pain to turn down people who, no matter how hard he tries to get them to give up, keep coming back._

_Kentarou slows his steps as they pass a window, glancing out to watch one of their teachers chase one of their rowdy classmates. He recognizes him. Kentarou has gotten in a fair number of fights with him- verbal and physical._

_Ranmaru notices this, and stops beside him. “Something wrong Kyoutani?”_

_Kentarou points to the commotion. “Satoshi’s getting chased again.”_

_Ranmaru shakes his head, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know how he does it. If I spent as much time running away from teachers as him, I’d pass out in a second.”_

_Kentarou snorts. “You would. I dunno how you can play basketball when you suck so bad at running.” He starts walking again, ignoring the indignant protests from the other boy. It doesn't take long for_ _Ranmaru to catch up though, and the two resume their trek down the hall to get to their lockers._

_It’s normal for them now._

_They spend time at Kentarou’s house, and they're such diligent workers that it's almost routine for them to get large amounts of work done in short amounts of time. They often have a lot of free time, which they use to play video games, laugh at shitty jokes, and overall just have a good time._

_Kentarou's actually happy for once. He has a friend._

_His teammates don't count. They're nice enough to each other, but they're barely on neutral ground with Kentarou, and that's only because he's the best spiker on the team. His setter though... he clashes with that asshole so much that they can't even_  try _to get along without throwing punches. Sad but true._

_They walk into school on the day the project is due, and things play out just as they have every other day for the past few weeks._

_But the day after they turn their paper, Kentarou notices the change._

_The first day, Kentarou’s text and calls are ignored. He shrugs it off as Ranmaru being busy._

_When this repeats for the next six days, he know’s what’s coming._

_The following week, his attempts die out, they no longer talk during breaks or have lunch together, and they go back to being strangers._

 

\--

**_Kentarou watches as the woman with flowing brown hair as tears roll down her face, turning her back on him. “It’s not your fault Kenni... I just can’t deal with him anymore… he’s just too much… I’m so, so sorry...” She looks him in the eyes as she says the last words she will ever speak to him face-to-face. She walks out. The door's closing, and Kentarou desperately tries to prop it open._ **

\--

 

_The perfect moment to rekindle their friendship arises on Thursday. The gym is being used by the drama club since they need the extra space to build props, so he doesn’t have to worry about rushing to get to practice._

_They’ve just gotten the grade for their project, and Kentarou is delighted to see it’s an A. A low one, but still an A. He rises from his seat at the bell to find Ranmaru._

_Talking about their score is a good way to start a conversation right? Kentarou thinks so._

_He decides to look everywhere he thinks he might be. The corridor where the two of them used to have lunch is empty. The hall where they used to make fun of teachers is too. He makes his way down another of the twisting hallways before stopping abruptly._

_“Hah?! You got an A?! No way!”_

_He recognizes that voice. They're on the basketball team. Which means-_

_“Yep! I guess I got lucky when Kunada-san picked our partners.”_

_Kentarou comes to his senses and realizes that he’s hidden around the corner. He doesn’t know why. If he just walks around it, he can-_

_He hears a tsk. “Who, Kyoutani? That guy’s got nothin’ except volleyball and starting fights on his brain! How’d he help?”_

_Those words sting, but he understands. They don’t play the sport, so they’d much rather spend time talking about basketball instead. The kid also doesn't know him, doesn't ever take the time to talk to him like Ranm-_

_“Yeah, he’s kinda scary and a little annoying, but you get used to it after a while. He’s a surprisingly good worker for a guy like that though. He's a good person to pair up with if nothing else. Oh, before I forget, I need you to help me practice my free throws…”_

_Ranmaru’s voices fades into the distance as Kentarou walks back towards the main halls of the school. He passes a few girls on cleanup duty while they’re talking inside a classroom. He crumples up his paper and tosses it into one of their trashcans outside the door since they aren’t paying enough attention to get mad._

_Kentarou leaves Minamisan Junior High for the day, feeling more hollow than he ever has._

_His journey home is mindless. He goes through the motions as he walks towards the station, sneering at anyone who dares to even look in his direction. He boards the train and sits in a corner he knows will be avoided when he sits down. He blows his money on loud punk rocks cd's from western bands he's never heard of before. He drags his feet when he walks through his neighborhood, pointedly ignoring the woman who lives across the street in favorite of aggressively slamming the front door to his house shut._

_Kentarou stomps upstairs with the familiar rage of hurt bursting throughout his chest. He throws his backpack across the room and shoves his new cd's into his desk drawer as it hits the wall with a hard thud. He flops onto his bed._

_Kentarou doesn’t know exactly what he did wrong._

_He can come up with dozens of possibilities. He wasn’t funny here, funny when he shouldn’t have been there. He talked too much here, not enough there. He said something here instead if there. He knows almost every single reason why people have left him, but he can never find a definitive answer. It eats away at him like a colony of termites, chewing at the edges of his brain as he tries his hardest to be someone people want to stay with, someone they won't want to leave stranded in a house full of people he doesn't know anymore._

 

_\--_

**_“I just can’t be around Shiro anymore. He’s just so loud, he needs so much attention and it's just too much, and I… I just can’t do it anymore. I’m so sorry Kenny. Things were so much better when it was just me, you, and your father. I’ll always love you Kenny. Goodbye.”_**

**_He’s too slow. The door slams shut._ **

_\--_

 

_“Nii-chan, come play cars with me!”_

_Kentarou raises his head and looks at the four year old grinning toothily at him._

_There’s something about him that disgusts Kentarou. It's weird. He just can't find it in himself to like his face, the way it contorts itself into a smile._

_He thinks it's gross. It's the damndest thing._

_“No. Why the hell would I wanna do that?”_

_The smile disappears and a shocked, saddened frown takes its place. He likes him much better when he isn’t the happy-go-lucky kid who’s constantly annoying him with loud laughter and high volume tv shows that seem to go on for hours. He likes him better when he's quiet._

_“I just wanted to play together-”_

_“No. Go back to your room and leave me alone.”_

_He's going to cry. He always does. He's got his eyes trained on the floor as he turns around, but before he leaves the room, he turns back to Kentarou._

_“You're gonna sit next to me at dinner ri-”_

_“I’ll think about it. Just go.” No. There’s no way he’d spend any more time around him than he needs to._

_A shaky sigh. The waterworks are coming. Kentarou doesn't do anything to stop them because he has his own shit to deal with._

_“Okay... I love you nii-chan.”_

_Kentarou doesn’t know why it happens._

_Maybe it’s because of the way the boy is always around when he doesn’t want him to be._

_Or the way he always has some stupid grin on his face like he thinks the world will be some great fucking paradise as long as he smiles._

_Or the way he makes their father to laugh, wrinkles near the edges of his eyes always in place, while all he does with Kentarou is scold and sigh this tired, defeated sound._

_Or how people always seem to gravitate towards him when he’s in a room while Kentarou can't even hold a conversation without someone trying to walk out on him._

_Or the way people see him and think "what a nice boy, he really takes after his father- shame about his older brother though."_

 

_Or maybe it’s because he made their mother want to run off with some deadbeat, made her realize that Kentarou wasn't enough to keep her there when she'd had something so much better while all Kentarou had was a father who hates him and a brother he didn't ask for._

 

_All he knows is that he's snarling at him, eyes wild and almost pouncing on this kid who won't leave him alone when everything's his fault._

_He can almost imagine how it'd feel if his hands inched closer to his neck. Because that'd help, wouldn't it? Because he doesn't know this kid. As much as Kentarou tries to think of all the good times he's had with little boy, all their camping trips and vacations and feeding him snacks when nobody was looking, all he can remember is the shit that's turned him into who he is now._

_It's his fault he doesn't have the mother he grew up with. It's his fault his father hates him, doesn't have the words to describe how truly ashamed he is to have Kentarou as a son. It's his fault that he'd tried to swallow those nameless pills that he couldn't manage to stomach for too long, ultimately failing to do what he thought needed to be done to leave this place behind and be rid of all the_ pain _that just won't leave him alone._

_Maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe letting it out would help._

_Before he can act on these thoughts, Kentarou stops_ _._

_He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He can't talk. He looks at his hands, frozen as they uses this opportunity to look at the boy._

_He's crying, sniffling as snot and tears run down his face. He doesn’t make a lot of noise though. For once, he's letting his face do the talking._

_But even though Kentarou can read his face like a book, a voice still tells him what he already knows but doesn't want to hear._

_A hum. “Now why'd you go and do that, Kentarou? Did it make you_ feel _better or something? Because it's not like it changed anything. You’re still here all by yourself." If he could see them, they'd probably be shaking in silent laughter given the amusement that's seeped into their voice. "Well congrats I guess! The only person in this entire world who still liked is now afraid of you! Now you're_ completely _alone! Nice one!"_

 _He wants to scream at them. Hi_ s _throat is clogged, like somethings been lodged in it, but no matter how hard he tries he can't cough it up. Before Kentarou can respond, the boy in front of him vanishes._

_His vision fades to black and his back slams into something. Hard. He's surprised it wasn't broken by the impact._

_He opens his eyes to an endlessly dark void before he's suddenly overwhelmed with bright light. He squints, trying to get a look at his surroundings._

_He’s in a cage. There are vertical bars overlapping horizontal ones on the door to create small squares large enough for him to stick his arm through. There's enough space inside the cage for him to maintain a sense of the freedom of being outside, but not enough to fully experience it himself._

_He recognizes this. It’s the exact one he saw the first time he went shopping for pet supplies with his day and-_

_Kentarou tries to rise from his spot on the ground and try to find a way out, but he can't. His eyes turns down and... is he in a char? Yes, it's a chair. He can feel something around his neck, something soft with a bit of metal on it. It kind of has the same texture as a dog collar, though that couldn't possibly be the case._

_He doesn’t know where this is from. At least he doesn't_ think _he does._

_His eyes scan the area aroun him, though his head is being held in place by... is that a fucking leash? Yeah, it's a leash, the same one the boy bought for one of the dogs._

_K_ _entarou opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the collar won’t allow any sounds to escape his throat._

_He tries to move his arms and legs to make noise so someone- anyone- will come save him._

_Instead, the vaguely familiar voice returns._

_“Your name really fits you know. Mad Dog. You deserve to rot in_ _this cage.”_

_A flash. Images playing behind his eyelids, like he's watching some sort of sick film reel. The boy is there again, staring at him, frozen, scrambling out of the room as fast as he can with a scream. Kentarou isn’t sure how to feel about it now._

_The voice speaks again. They're laughing._

_“Guess you finally snapped huh? I didn't think you had it in you to even consider doing that shit to your brother since he's always thought you were the most amaaaaazing person to ever live, but you proved me wrong! That's just great!"_

_Slow clapping. More laughter. It hurts._

_"I mean think about it. You have a brother who you think is the greatest fucker to ever walk the Earth, and then suddenly, he's thinking about how it'd feel if you died? Because he has more pent up anger than a teenage boy who hasn't beat it in two weeks? Priceless! Better than any soap opera_ I've _ever seen that's for sure!”_

_It hurts._

_“That's gotta pretty rough though. Imagine being so proud of being a perfect little brother that you don't know how to react to hearing your hero suddenly wants you gone.”_

_It hurts._

_“Personally? I'd be disappointed. Like,_ you're _the oldest,_  you're _supposed to set the example; no real older sibling would do something like that. Oh, present company excluded of course."_

_It hurts._

_A sigh. False sympathy. “Honestly though, his life is pretty fucked. Kids aren't as dumb as people think they are. He knows his mother didn’t really like her old life and him being born just reminded her of that. But you know what's crazy?"_ _Excitement again. Kentarou can't begin to describe the pain he's feeling. "He doesn't like her either! Ha! He barely remembers the woman, but he knows enough to hate her! Isn't that something? Oh, and he knows he can be a nuisance, he knows that you hate that he can make friends easily when you can't, and a whole bunch of other boring crap. Which is pretty sad to watch, by the way."_

_Whispering. Right next to his ear. His heart clenches familiarly. "Even now that you're in highschool you resent him. A teenager jealous of a little kid just because he's a little lonely? How low can you get?"_

_A pause. The room isn’t as bright anymore. He knows exactly where he is._

_The Aoba Johsai volleyball clubroom._

_Kentarou can see the speaker. He wish he couldn’t._

_Yahaba's laughing his ass off, looking at him with so much pity and contempt and malice and unadulterated mockery that he wishes the floor would swallow him._

_“This was fun though. But can you do me a favor and stay in that cage? There’s not really anything about you that could justify you being around other people.”_

_Kentarou opens his mouth to call out to him, but the collar won’t let him. He tries to escape the chair, but the leash is so tight he can't move his body enough to break free, and his arms are bleeding from the strain._

_Yahaba turns off the light as he walks out of the room as his laughter finally dies down, shutting the door to leave the dog in its cage, but not before Kentarou can hear the beginnings of a hauntingly lighthearted song._

_The Mad Dog is a monster, the Mad Dog is a monster, the Mad Dos is a monster..._

 

* * *

 

Kentarou wakes up Thursday morning to the sound of his alarm, numb to the bruises he recieved at practice the day before, body enveloped in a cold sweat.

When he decides to stay home, a sickeningly shrill voice chants  _The Mad Dog is a monster_  in the recesses of his mind one last time.


	5. Umeko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Yahaba Shigeru, where he meets yet another member of the Kyoutani family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna wait until i had more drama, but since im nice, i just uploaded what i had. hold your applause.

Shigeru doesn’t know why Kyoutani doesn’t come to school, but he’s pissed.

Okay, maybe not pissed, but he’s still a little mad.

At first he thinks it’s because Kyoutani doesn’t feel comfortable showing up since people on the team know about the issues in his personal life, and he can understand that- he told something private to other people who can tell anybody they want.

But Shigeru knows this isn’t the case, because everyone has pretty much beaten the idea of trust and honesty in his head, and they wouldn’t be saying that if they were just going to let everybody know about whatever he said.

So the most likely reason would be that he’s sick or taking care of his brother.

Shigeru knows Kyoutani’s been consistently coming to school; the only time he hasn’t shown up was when he was ill  ~~h~~ ~~e told Shigeru he still tried to come, but he ended up falling out of bed and going to sleep on the floor~~. That’s probably what’s going on now. Shigeru isn’t pissed- he isn’t even mad now that he thinks about it- he’s more irritated by the inconvenience.

When Irihata asks where Kyoutani is, he tells him that he’s sick, and that’s the end of that.

Practice goes by well, though Kindaichi looks a little disappointed since Kyoutani isn’t there to help practice his blocks. Kunimi looks relieved since he still has bruises from two days ago. Shigeru is practicing his serves when Watari walks by, and he can tell by the cheeky grin on his face that he’s up to something.

“So, Kyoutani’s sick, huh?”

_Oh god. Here we go._

“I’m not 100% sure, but why else would he skip practice?”

“You know what this means right?”

Shigeru raises an eyebrow at him. “Am I supposed to?”

Watari nods as he crosses his arms, grin never leaving his face.

“Of course! You’re supposed to leave practice earlier than everyone else so you can go play nurse! Seriously dude, what kind of relationship do you two have that this hasn’t come up?”

Shigeru groans as he throws the ball he’s holding at him. “Shut up! At least I didn’t nutt in public when I saw the captain of the girls softball team!”

Watari gasps, his face turning as pale as a sheet. His muscles go stiff, the ball bouncing on top of his head before hitting the ground. “Yahaba! You swore you wouldn’t mention that!”

Before he has a chance to say anything back, the first years are motioning them to start their diving drills. Watari narrows his eyes at Shigeru, muttering. “You may have won, but I still wanna hear how things go after you make out.”

Shigeru can tell his face is a vibrant crimson because of the amount of heat he can feel radiating off of it. “Shut up you stupid baldie!”

 

* * *

 

 _I’m not doing this because of Watari. I’m doing this because I’m captain. Oikawa-san would’ve done the same thing if he were in my position._ Shigeru’s supposed reassuring thoughts are doing nothing but embarrassing him further as he walks down the familiar path to Kyoutani’s house.

The fact that he’s memorized the way to it and refers to it as ‘familiar’ only intensifies this feeling.

He continues down the sidewalk as glaces at the other yards.

One had a neatly trimmed rose bush with hedge clippers and a hose lying next to it. Another had a small bird pond with a few baby crows arguing over seeds before shoving each other into the water. The eyes of a little girl peeking over a gate, fixed intently on whatever’s across the street. Cute little daisies arranged along the pathway to someone’s front por-

Shigeru stops abruptly. The gate to Kyoutani’s house is next, but he doesn’t continue.

He slowly walks backward and turns around. The girl notices him and focuses on him, her face pouty as she whispers meekly. “Is there something you need?”

Shigeru shaking his head slightly. “No, not at all. I was just curious as to what you’re looking at. You seem very dedicated to it…” He glances to the left to get a look at the nameplate next to the gate. “Minami-chan.”

Minami’s face becomes a soft pink, quickly turning back to the other side of the road. Shigeru follows her gaze.

Shiro’s trying to brush five dogs in the larger yard across the street. The three akitas he recognizes as his are yipping and playing with a golden retriever puppy. The older one- the father of the puppy he assumes- is sitting patiently as Shiro brushes him.

Shigeru looks rapidly looks back and forth between the two. “So… you’re watching him?”

Minami nods, but doesn’t give him any further attention, keeping her eyes locked on Shiro. Shigeru has to bite his cheek to keep from gushing. He’s probably getting the feeling someone’s watching him, which is why when Shiro’s head snaps up and looks straight at him, Shigeru isn’t surprised. He waves at him, and out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Minami run into her house and hears her slam the door shut.

Shigeru chuckles as he turns away, whispering faintly, “Do your best Minami-chan.”

Shiro crosses the street, running up to his house, looking expectantly at him. “Are you coming inside? You came to see nii-san right?”

He nods and walks over as Shiro opens the gate, but the front door to the house opens before he can step inside.

A woman in standing in the doorway, her chestnut hair shaped into a bob accompanied by deep, dark brown eyes. She looks surprised to see him, but turns to Shiro first.

“Tell Kugira-san that you’ve finished taking care of his dogs. Your father's going to be home in a little bit.”

The boy runs back to the yard, but the dogs have returned to the house and have entered. The woman turns to him, her face inviting and delighted.

“You must be one of Kentarou’s friends. He’s not feeling well today, but you can still see him if you’d like.”

Shigeru likes her voice. It’s warm and caring, much like his own mother’s. Not the same, but definitely similar.

He realizes he hasn’t said anything, that he’s just been staring at the woman. Shigeru flushes and politely stutters. “T-Thank you, sorry for imposing.”

The woman shakes this off with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine, come on in.”

She turns around and leaves the door open for him. Shigeru enters the house just as Shiro comes barrelling through it.

“I FORGOT TO FEED GODZILLA!”

Shigeru can hear the woman sigh quietly as he shuts the door.

 

* * *

 

The woman is Kyoutani’s mother. He learns this after he takes his shoes off and she formally introduces herself as Kyoutani Umeko. A beautiful name to match a beautiful woman.

She’s lead him to the bottom of the stairs, her voice low as she speaks to him. “I left food outside his door, but he hasn’t touched it, and he hasn’t come out of his room all day. Could you get him to come eat? Shiro’s been-

_CRASH!_

“THAT WAS KYŪRI! NOT ME!”

“Energetic, without anyone around to play with. He really misses his brother.”

Shigeru laughs lightly as he nods. “I’ll do my best Kyoutani-san.”

Her hairs shifts as she ushers him forward, and Shigeru ascends the staircase. He can hear Shiro’s laughter come to a halt followed by the gentle speech of the woman scolding her child. He reaches the top of the stairs and looks down the hall. 

There’s a houseplant on an end table under a window at the end of the hall. White curtains frame fan out behind it, the faint light of the evening peeking through a crack. The Kyoutani’s live in a pretty nice house. He’d make a joke about Ken’s bad attitude being due to his rich kid status, but that’d be in poor taste. He’s here to make him feel better, not to make him mad.

Shigeru tries to find Ken’s room. On the left hand side, there are three doors. The one closest to him is cracked, and he can see it’s the bathroom, but he feels a pang of envy at seeing the shower and toilet are separated into two different rooms. Next to the bathroom is just a folding closet door, so he doesn’t pay much mind to it. But the room at the end of the hall is what catches his eye. In front of him is a try with an empty tray on it, and he assumes a dog has eaten its contents if Ken’s mother was right.

He makes his way down the hallway quietly, picking up the tray and placing it on the end table. Looking at the door across from Ken’s room, he can see it’s wide open with toys scattered across the floor. Must be Shiro’s room. He turns back to Ken’s door and knocks three times. When he speaks, he doesn’t call him by his first name. He wants to see if he really needs it. “Kyoutani, you awake? I came by to see how you were doing since you weren’t at school today.”

No response. He tries to tell himself that he isn’t answering because he’s asleep, but he knows it isn’t true.

 

_He’s not feeling well today…_

_I left him food, but he hasn’t touched it..._

_He hasn’t come out of his room all day..._

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

“I’m coming in.”

  
Shigeru walks into the room, and shuts the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you were wondering...  
> Lizard name: Godzilla (i just thought it was a funny name for a bearded dragon lol)  
> Dogs names: Kabocha (pumpkin)  
> Kyūri (cucumber)  
> Yuzu (a citrus fruit that tastes fuckin amazing my dude)
> 
> the dogs are from the same litter and are named after the Kyoutani family’s favorite foods  
> Ken may suck at names but he makes up for it by eatin yuzu
> 
> and yes, i did use google translate for these words. it's really shit for sentences, but it’s great for individual words


	6. Kentarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shigeru and Kentarou have a nice chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who didn't edit this? me. it's gonna feel rushed because it is and i know it sucks so whatever
> 
>  
> 
> p.s btw ive never actually written anything and made it public before so thanks for hangin in there you magnificent bastards

The first thing Shigeru notices is the smell.

It wasn’t particularly bad, but there was a bit of a sweat drifting through the air. He was more focused on the scent that was more pervasive, which was salty and made the room feel a bit damp.

He wasn’t expecting it, and it only makes him worry more.

He glances around the room. A desk with a computer open to the desktop and a stack of papers next to it, a basket with neatly folded clothes sitting in front of a closet, a gym bag with the volleyball club’s jacket thrown on top of it, a tv with a couple game consoles. There are a few band posters on the wall that he assumes are American even though he can’t read what they say, alongside a couple drawings of dogs in crayon.

Shigeru looks at the lump on the bed and holds in a sigh. There are balls of tissues on the floor, some lazily thrown towards a small trashcan. Others are just sitting on top of the lump of blankets and scattered pillows, a few falling over when it moves up and down with Kentarou’s steading breathing. He walks to the bed and sits on the edge, his head turned to the side so he can look over his shoulder at the mass of blankets. He lifts his hand to pat him, but settles for clasping his hands together instead.

“You weren’t at school today Ken.”

The lump doesn’t move.

“I know you only miss when you’re sick, so I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure you didn’t hurt yourself this time."

The blanket shifts. Shigeru turns his head away from it and faces forward.

“I met your mom today. She really pretty, but we didn’t get much time to talk. Shiro’s going a little crazy without you there to watch him, and she had to make sure he didn’t wreck the place.”

A pillow falls on the floor when Kentarou moves again. Shigeru can tell he’s peeking out from the hole he just created, but he doesn’t look at him.

“She’s worried about you. Said you haven’t left your room or eaten anything all day.”

A heavy exhale. Shigeru can feel the bed shift beneath him, and he turns his body to look at Kentarou. He looks…

Well, to put it simply, he looks half dead.

His eyes are red, his tear stained face as pale as the sheets he’s laying on, his nose is a bit red. Overall, he just looks tired. Like he’s had enough of everything, just wants to lie down wherever he can and close his eyes for as long as he wants- forever preferably.

Kentarou speaks before he has a chance to.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.”

Shigeru frowns. Again with the obligations. Doesn’t he ever learn that he’s there because he _wants_ to be? It’s getting old, and he’s had enough of it. “I didn’t _have_ to, but I did.”

Kentarou’s faces turns to guilt. “Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…”

He sighs and moves completely on the bed. He crosses his legs, and he’s keenly aware that their legs brush up against each other. He tries to ignore it.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can trust me.”

Kentarou’s face morphs into slight discomfort. He’s hesitant, and Shigeru’s about to tell him nevermind, but he speaks despite his obvious uncomfortable state, surprising him.

“I was just… I remembered somethin’ I did a couple years ago. It was shitty, and I freaked the fuck out when I thought about it.” He looks like he has a lot more to say, like there’s a list of confessions he wants to read out to him before he changes his mind. Shigeru watches as he presses his lips into a thin line and flop back onto his back. He’s stares at the ceiling, and Shigeru waits for him to speak again.

He’s gathering his thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. This is going be a _long_ story, he’s sure of it. But he’s ready for it, ready to support him with whatever he needs. It takes him a few minutes of silence before he opens his mouth again. During that time, Shigeru has maneuvered so that he’s laying next to Kentarou, and he’s desperately trying to keep the blush off his face, neck, everywhere really. He doesn’t seem to notice, eyes still trained on the ceiling, and Shigeru thanks every collective being of the known universe.

“I didn’t always like my brother. He was annoying and I hated how loud he was. Never liked loud noises much, but they’re bearable now I guess.”

Kentarou folds his arms behind his head as he talks, his voice low. “He was always loud, ever since he was a baby. He cried, screamed, anything to get attention. I dunno why though, our dad always spent time with him. But we couldn’t get any sleep after he was born. He was _really_ needy, and it made my parents moody.”

Shigeru realizes he isn’t talking about the woman downstairs. It’s a different one, his biological mom. He wouldn’t have known had he not been told- Umeko seems like she’s been here for their entire lives. The way she spoke to and about her children, as though she’s watched them grow up and can tell what’s normal and what isn’t. The way she moved about the house as though she raised the boys here, built her life within these very walls. He’s happy that she’s gotten so used to being apart of the family, which couldn’t have been easy given Kentarou’s stubborn personality.

Shigeru’s getting off track, and he really wishes he had paid more attention, because Kentarou hasn’t stopped talking. He’s missing a _ton_ of memories from his past that he isn’t sure he’ll be able to say again. He tunes in again and hopes he doesn’t notice how he spaced out.

“-probably why they argued. I’m not completely sure though. All I know is that I wake up to go to school, ignore my brother who’s cryin’ for some reason, and go downstairs. But there’s mom-of-the-year, walkin’ out the door, tellin’ me how hard it was to raise a loud kid who needs _so_ much attention from his mother.” He scoffs, removing his arms from behind his head, opting to cover his face with them instead. “And you know what I did? I just stood there like an idiot and watched her walk out. Didn’t yell at her, didn’t try to get her to stay. Took me five minutes before I could even open the door to follow her, and the bitch is already gone obviously.”

Shigeru wants to say something along the lines of ‘don’t call the woman who raised you a bitch’, but he isn’t confident enough to say it given what he’s just heard. He can understand the stress she might’ve been under; a newborn who needs constant attention or he’ll cry all day and all night, won’t give her a moments peace no matter how hard she tries. Shigeru asked his parents a while ago what he’d been like, and he was a calm baby, so he can’t say he knows what it would’ve been like. But he just couldn’t see how something like crying and neediness would make a mother want to abandon her child. That kind of stuff was normal for babies, right?

Again, he’s spacing out, and he’s missed another chunk of Kentarou’s story.

“-still, he wasn’t mad that she left. He made sure we were okay, went to work like normal.” A chuckle, filled with bitterness. “Actually, I think he was _happier_ that she was gone. All they did was fight after Shiro was born. But he shouldn’t have left him with me. I didn’t do shit. I just let him sit in his crib and cry himself to sleep. I don’t even remember if I fed him or changed him, but I was a scummy kid, so probably not.”

Kentarou’s voice is a lot lower than it was when he started, so he has to move closer to properly hear ~~he’s not blushing, you are~~. “So I go to school and stuff, and Shiro’s growin’ up. My dad found out I wasn’t the best person to leave a kid with, so he asked our new neighbor to. She just moved from Tokyo and didn’t know many people, so she thought it was fine, wanted to make new friends around town. I didn’t have any issues with her, but I didn’t pay much attention to what was going on at home anymore. So like I said, Shiro grows up, has a birthday or three, I didn’t really care how old he was unless my dad got mad that I didn’t know. Probably should’ve paid more attention, ‘cause I didn’t even know that my neighbor and my dad were dating until my dad tells me they’re engaged.”

Shigeru wants to facepalm.

He does, and Ken groans loudly.

“I know, I know, I was stupid. But I just didn’t wanna be at home. To me, everything was fucked up, and I didn’t wanna be there. School wasn’t much better though. Couldn’t talk to anyone without makin’ them scared.” His voice loses its embarrassed tone and drops into Shigeru something hasn’t heard before. Jealously. It’s strange when it’s directed towards a- how old is Shiro in the story? 3? 4? He assumes it’s the former.

“This kid's been at daycare for three months and he’s made more friends than I did throughout the whole semester. He’s pretty charismatic, I’ll give’em that. But I wasn’t happy for him. I was pissed. All this shit that’s been happenin' has been because of him, ya know? My mom leaves, my parents get divorced, and apparently I thought it was his fault I couldn’t make friends either. Real fuckin mature right?” Another humorless laugh, and Shigeru can hear his voice waver.

“I kept tryin’ though. I tried to get along with people, but I suck with words. Can’t open my mouth without soundin’ like I wanna fight someone. So I had enough one day.” Heavy breath, shaky, he’s crying. Shigeru is glad he can’t see. He’s a sympathetic crier, he’d start too.

“I wanted to kill the bastard I was so mad. Screamed at him, lectured him about how he basically ruined my life by bein’ born, did everything that would hurt him except hit him. He was cryin’ but he wasn’t makin’ any noise. It was really fuckin' freaky. He just stood there and took it. Waited ‘til I was finished, then left. Can you believe that? Some three year old had more sense than a thirteen year old.”

He can hear him clearly now, labored breathing and shaky shoulders and chuckling that's a failed disguise for his pain, and now Shigeru’s crying too. He isn’t sure who for though- Kentarou, Shiro, maybe their whole family. It’s all just a big mess. Kentarou sniffles a couple times and keeps going, keeps spilling everything he's kept locked away for who knkws how long.

“I’m still mad, so I’m throwin’ shit, breakin’ things, fuckin up my own room while my dad’s knockin’ on the door to see what’s wrong. Sounds mad, worried, and a whole bunch of other things that I didn’t pay attention to. He stops after a while, and I stop, and then I’m just sittin’ in the dark thinkin’ about how much of a complete asshole I am. Then my stepmom opens the door, and she’s bein’ nice, so I yell at her for it since all I did was make her life hell. She-” His voice cracks. He takes a couple breaths before he continues. “She just says it’s fine, that we need time to deal with shit on our own. So she sends in Shiro again, and he starts cryin’ and I start cryin’ and we hug and things seem alright.” He’s getting louder, and his sobs fills the silence in the room. “But it’s still there, and it sucks because you’re tryin’ to forget it and tryin’ to change but nothin’ works because sometimes it all just comes back at once and-”

He can’t understand what Kentarou’s saying anymore. It’s all a jumbled mess that gets worse the more he tries to explain how he feels. He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't the best with words.

Shigeru wraps his arms around Kentarou, and while Ken cries for how he used to be, Shigeru cries for how far he's come and how he’s changed.

 

* * *

 

It takes them ten minutes to stop. Snot everywhere, tear stained faces. They’re just a couple of sniffling teenagers sitting in the dark, but Shigeru can’t bring himself to get up and turn on the light. He glances at the clock. 6:37. He needs to let his mom know he’ll be home late, that he’s not been kidnapped or something. But for now, he just lays next to Kentarou.

It’s not awkward like he thought it’d be, it’s just…

He doesn’t know actually. All he knows is that Kentarou has calmed down, which is a plus at least. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. It creaks under the sudden change in weight, and Shigeru just watches him. He traces Kentarou’s broad shoulders with his eyes, following every dip and crevice, but he notices how tense his muscles are underneath the sweat soaked t-shirt. The talk had taken its toll on him, and Kentarou was out of it. Shigeru sits up, moving next to him.

Kentarou didn’t seem to realize that Shigeru had moved, though it was hard to believe given the creaking caused by the sudden change in weight on the bed. His hands covering his face as he breathed deeply through his nose. Shigeru lifts his hand, but quickly lowers it. _What am I supposed to say after all that?_ _Do I comfort him or do I act normal to ease the tension? I wish Oikawa-san was here, he’d know what to-_

He sees Kentarou rub his face out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks for listenin’ to all of that. Didn’t think it would take that long.”

Oh.  _Guess I don't need to say anything._

He smiles softly and stands, putting a hand on Kentarou’s shoulder. “It’s fine Ken. I'm always here for you.” He makes his way to the door, his head turned over his shoulder to continue looking at him. “We should probably get you something to eat though. You’re like one of those starving animals from a Sarah McLachlan commercial.”

Kentarou’s expression immediately drops to a frown as he rises from his place on the bed. “No I’m not.” He walks to his dresser to grab a random shirt to replace the one he’s wearing. When he’s thrown the sweaty one on the floor- and no, Shigeru isn’t staring, he’s just looking at that general area obviously- and pulls a dark blue one over his head, his stomach growls. Loudly.

Shigeru smiles wider. “You really are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

Kentarou and Shigeru exit his room as they stare at each other.

“You are.”

Shigeru closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoy this piece of shit
> 
> tune in next week for a family dinner ft. yahaba swageru and shiro's fire mixtape


	7. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kentarou leaves his room, eats dinner, and walks Shigeru home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is trash

When Kentarou woke up that morning feeling like the scum of the Earth, he had spent the day coming to terms with his current situation. His nightmare may have been… vivid, but it wasn’t particularly scary. In fact, he hesitated to even call it a nightmare. But even though it lacked anything horrific, he was still restless after waking up. After a full eight hours in his bed, he was more exhausted than when he first laid down. It both annoyed and unsettled him how something that his family had tried to teach him to move past was still able to affect him so much.

_It’s okay, Kentarou. You’re better now. We all love you, and we always will._

But reassuring words aren't enough to wipe away the stains of the past. He’ll never be able to forget what’s happened to him, what he’s done. He can repress it, sure, but it’ll never go away. Kentarou can try to find comfort in the warmth of his family's love, but it won't be enough to help him move on.

This is one thing that he alone needs to take steps to accomplish. Family and friends can only get him so far. He's realized that it's alright to go to his mother for advice, but it’s _his_ responsibility to love his brother. It’s _his_ responsibility to overcome the memories that haunt him everyday, and even though there are people in his life who he can create new ones with, the old ones will never disappear. They'll be chanting in the back of his mind, repeating the same mantra _**we're here, look at us, remember us**_. In the end, the decision lies with him. Does he want to move on, or does he want to wait until he thinks he's strong enough?

And that is what Kentarou had spent his whole day doing.

He spent the day ignoring his mother, who was trying to coax him out of his room to eat or do something besides sit there all day, and he reflected. He thought about how he gave up on trying to deal with other people, how brash he was. His disrespect of his upperclassman, the contempt he held for the people in his grade- his life was just filled with hate. It was really no wonder he was given the name Mad Dog, because while Oikawa may have thought it was clever "because Kyou and Ken obviously add up to Kyouken, Iwa-chan, it doesn't matter if the kanji is different ~~~~", it was true.

It was a reflection of who he was, but doesn't want to be again.

He knows that he doesn't want to go back to being hated and scorned _especially_ now that he actually has people outside of his family to lose. But he isn’t _ready_. It's not like he's the Avatar and has to prepare to face the Fire Lord, but it’s still a new experience for him. He's spent his whole life running _away_ from his problems, he's never had to deal with them. It’s a lot to take in at once, and it’s so overwhelming that he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to go about it.

So when Shigeru comes into his room asking if he's okay, trying to find out what’s wrong, actually giving a shit about his existence, Kentarou thinks he might actually have a chance.

So he takes it.

And he discovers that he's shit at telling stories. There are a lot a details he leaves out, and some things just don't make sense. It’s ironic really- he can be brutally honest with anyone at anytime except when it comes to himself. But he's learned something else; telling a story about yourself causes memories to flicker throughout your mind. He thinks it's similar to what people say when they talk about their life flashing before their eyes during a near death experience, and maybe that's what this was if he thought about it in terms of his old behaviour being put to rest. The first time he heard it, he'd said it was complete bullshit, but that’s what it really felt like ~~so past Ken could take this L~~.

Kentarou tells Shigeru his life story, and he listens. He doesn’t scream or yell at him for his past decisions. He just lets his tears stream down his face as they lie on his bed. When he stops, neither of them speak. Until that moment, Kentarou had only found solace in the sound of volleyballs successfully hitting the ground on the other side of the court.

He's decided that silence is a comforting sound when he's with Shigeru. He'd like to hear it more often.

\----

Kentarou _really_ should’ve come out of his room earlier than he did, because he discovers two things: Shiro is forcing their dad to stay in a jail cell made out of an old Amazon box, and his mother is making curry that smells like it came out of a five star restaurant. He doesn’t address the former (because fuck if he knows how his dad got suckered into whatever mess he’s in), but the latter is making his stomach scream of neglect. The key part of stewing in your room is that you don’t leave or open the door, and that comes with you not eat anything.

His mother is probably the best cook in the prefecture, and he keeps telling her to open up a restaurant in order to make money doing what she loves, but she always says they don’t have the startup money. He thinks that's a lie because he’s _seen_ his father’s salary, and he knows they’re loaded, but maybe she just didn't want the stress of running a business or something, he didn't know. When he reaches the entrance to the living room with Shigeru by his side, his stomach makes this weird gurgle noise, something like _I’m dying and I need you to put food in me please._ He can hear Shigeru cough out a laugh, so he turns to him with his brows furrowed. “It’s not that funny y’know.”

Shiro must’ve heard him, because his head snaps up. Instead of his usual smile, his face is serious. Well, as serious as a six year old can be. He gets up from his place on the floor, holding a hand up to stop them before they can step fully into the room. “Sorry, you can’t be here.”

Kentarou raises an eyebrow, confusion and irritation written over his features. “But I live here. This is my house.”

Shiro shakes his head, frown deepening. “No, it’s not your house.”

_Now what the fuck-_

“This is a prison.” He extends a hand toward where there dad is crouched inside a cardboard box. There are poorly made cardboard bars within a small window, and his dad just looks done with this whole situation. “See, we even have our own prisoner over here. He’s committed a terrible crime.”

“What’d he do?” Shigeru’s enjoying himself too much, amusement set in his voice when he speaks.

Shiro’s voice morphs into that of pure anger. “He said my mixtape was garbage and-”

His father sighs. It’s a deep, tired sound he’d never dreamed that he’d hear at a time like this. “Shiro, I told you, it doesn’t count as a mixtape if all you do is play layers of airhorns over each other for three minutes in Garageband.”

Shiro whips around, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “LIES!”

Kentarou opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he drags Shigeru by the wrist into the kitchen before the boy bursts a blood vessel in his laughter. He pretends not to hear his father attempt to reason with Shiro, who’s angrily yelling at him that yes dad, it does count as a mixtape, because I worked on it for two hours in order to get the sound right.

He elects to set Shigeru off to the side so he can calm himself down, and helps his mother set the table. He reaches into the cupboard, pulling out plates and placing them next to her so she can fill them when she’s ready. He leaves the room with silverware, and as he places the utensils at everyone’s place at the table, he can hear his mother talking to Shigeru. He can’t decipher what they’re saying, but he doesn’t mind...  much. When he reenters the kitchen, he sees that Shigeru is helping scoop piles of rice onto plates, and his mother turns to look at him. “Did you set everyone’s place? You have a guest, so I hope you remembered to set an extra one next to you.”

Kentarou gives her a look, his brows furrowed. “Excuse me, mother dearest, but I think I know how to set a table.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. “I honestly didn’t think you did since you’re such an uncultured barbarian.”

Kentarou makes an offended noise, recoiling slightly. “That’s emotionally abusive, I’m calling the police.”

A hand dismisses him as she turns back to the pot in front of her, ladling curry over rice. “While you’re getting the phone to call them, tell your brother and father to come eat.”

He growls as he passes by them, hearing Shigeru whisper something along the lines of “he’s quieter at school” and his mother replying with “that must be nice”. He loves his mother, and she loves him too, but he honestly didn’t need all the sass. But he does as he’s told anyway, sticking his head into the living room. Shiro’s still sitting there, looking furious that their father won’t acknowledge his amazing musical talents. He clears his throat so they look at him.

“Dinner’s ready.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, his dad climbs out of the box, grabs Shiro by the back of his shirt, and carries him to the bathroom. Shiro’s thrashing around like a fish, complaining about seven different things at once. You smell weird, my mixtape is amazing, I can walk by myself, and a whole bunch of other shit that Kentarou can’t be bothered to follow. He walks back through the kitchen, taking the seat next to Shigeru at the table.

His father sits at the end to the right of him, his mother to the left, and Shiro across from him. For about an hour or so, everything is fine. They’re making light conversation, asking things like “how was school”, “how’s volleyball”, “who would win in a fight, godzilla or the loch ness monster”, and “Shiro, it really isn’t a mixtape if all it has is airhorns”. They share stories about their week, and nobody mentions how noticeably silent Shiro gets, opting to change the subject. They laugh together, they tease each other. It’s kind of like bringing a boyfriend or girlfriend home for dinner- minus the embarrassing stories, that is.

Maybe tonight will actually be normal for once.

Kentarou makes eye contact with his dad, who’s grinning cheekily at him.

_Oh. Shit._

Spoke too soon.

Before he can do anything about it, his father's grin widens. “How’s the rash on your ass doin’?”

Shiro spits out his water. His mother reaches over to cover Shiro’s ears, though she knows it won’t be enough to drown out what they’re going to say. Shigeru has a disgusted look on his face, but he snorts as a smile creeps its way in.

Kentarou claps back with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know dad, how’s your sex life?”

His father’s expression mirrors his own. “You mean mind blowingly amazing?”

“No, I mean dry, uninteresting, and overall nonexistent.”

Shigeru roars in laughter. His mother rolls her eyes. Shiro chokes on his curry.

Kentarou gets grounded.

 

* * *

 

The walk is silent, though Shigeru is still delighted after having witnessed what his family is like. They don’t say much, just shuffle side by side down the empty street. Their arms occasionally brush against one another, but they don’t mention it.

They slow to a stop when they reach an intersection. Kentarou turns to Shigeru, who’s already facing him.

“I can walk the rest of the way. Thanks.” His voice his muffled under his jacket, which is pulled high on his face. It’s the middle of November, and it’s colder outside, so Kentarou doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t think much of the color on Shigeru’s cheeks either.

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow.”

Shigeru nods, fidgeting where he stands. He shifts from one foot to the other. “Y-Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

And before he turns to leave, Shigeru leans forward, quickly presses his lips against his, and speeds away.

Kentarou stands there for fifteen minutes before he realizes that his face is numb from the cold. He looks around to see Shigeru is nowhere in sight. He stumbles on his way back home.

When Kentarou hears his mother mumble something about his pink cheeks after he steps inside, he blames it on the cold.

He goes to sleep that night without saying another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 10: a happy doggo, an embarrassed creampuff, & a confused turnip
> 
>  
> 
> on a sidenote, how would you feel about an aoba johsai shakespearean play au? (and no, not romeo and juliet, that's way too overdone)


	8. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kentarou thinks December is pretty great when Shigeru and Shiro are around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who mushed December into a single chapter? me that's who
> 
> i didn't edit this. happy new year, fuck 2016, say hello to 2k17

If Kentarou was asked his favorite month of the year, he would _never_ have said December. He didn’t care about his birthday or Christmas or pretty lights- he didn’t particularly like anything to be honest. He had a lot of dislikes though. Having to wear 7,000 layers of clothes so he wouldn’t be cold, snow getting into his shoes and making his socks wet when it melted, constantly needing tissues so he wouldn’t have to snort his disgusting snot. It was all a pain in the ass that he didn’t need.

But this year was different due to two very important people: Shiro and Shigeru.

Shiro was doing a lot better in school now. He’d told his parents about what Oikawa has said, and they immediately taken him to get tested. That just confirmed the assumption that Shiro did have a form of dyslexia, and within the hour, he'd gotten tinted glasses. Shiro was nervous leaving the house with them when he first got them in fear of them being broken by hateful classmates, but when he came home, he’d had a bright smile on his face that lasted the rest of the week. Kentarou may or may not have been more giddy at home. He also may or may not have seen Shiro trying to draw him a picture for his birthday.

As for Shigeru… Kentarou didn’t really know how to explain that. They weren’t dating, but they were past being friends. It wasn’t bad, per se. They synced better during practice, they helped each other with homework- but something didn’t feel quite right. Things weren’t going as well as they could’ve been. They _could_ be doing all of that annoying couple shit that made Kentarou cry for his wallet, but he didn’t know what to do. They were stuck between the border of “stupid teenagers in love” and “lol friendzoned”. He _wanted_ to be something more, wanted to prove to Shigeru how amazing he was, that no, he’s not Oikawa. He’s more incredible than he could ever dream of being, that he’s…

Well, that he’s the greatest being to ever bless the Earth.

But seeing as how going up to Shigeru and saying that would make him want to jump off of Tokyo Tower to grace himself with the sweet release of death, he decided to ask the connoisseur of love about how he should proceed.

And that connoisseur’s name was Terushima Yuuji.

Contrary to what people thought about him, Terushima didn’t go out with a lot of people. Sure, he’s been on dates with more girls and guys than he can remember, but he doesn’t pursue a lot of serious relationships. Now that he thinks about it, he’s only known him to have been in one relationship, and that was with his team’s former captain.

Kentarou doesn’t know how long he’s known Terushima. He knows they went to the same elementary school and that they shared food a few times, but they weren’t that close until sixth grade when they were put in the same class. That was when he’d made his first real friend, one who didn’t leave after a week. They got into trouble together, ate together, played games. People started referring to Terushima as “Kyoutani’s #1 Fan”, and recently, he’s changed it to “Ken’s #1 Fan” just because he knows it makes him mad.

After Terushima moved the day after graduating from elementary school, Kentarou was back to being alone again. He’d never have guessed that when his mother told him to buy some milk from the store the first week of his second year of high school that he’d run into his old partner in crime. They’d gotten each other’s Skype and Snapchat, and that was that. They were back to annoying the shit out of each other and being obnoxious.

He’s even pissing Kentarou off by trying to get him to fuck Shigeru instead of trying to get him out of his dilemma.

So they’re basically best friends.

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** bro it’s not that hard, just ask him out and start dating and give me details after you do the naughty

 **angry dog boy:** fuck off, if it were that simple i would’ve already done it

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** well clearly you haven’t tried hard enough

 **angry dog boy:** i swear to god im gonna fuckin kill you

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** blasphemy

 **angry dog boy:** are you gonna help me or not because hes here with another one of my teammates for my birthday and im about to shit myself

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** well dont shit in front of him like holy fuck do you want him to hate you

 **angry dog boy:** is it too late to kill myself

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** yes, so listen. just act normal. dont do anything out of the ordinary until people start going home. tell your parents you’re walkin him home like a gentlemanly gentleman. once you get him alone, finesse him and get some ass

 **angry dog boy:** so what you’re saying is that if this doesn’t work, you’ll walk into practice with a positive pregnancy test and tell your manager you’re pregnant with her child

**Ken’s #1 Fan:**

**Ken’s #1 Fan:** yes

 **angry dog boy:** okay just making sure lol

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** dont lol that you piece of shit

 **angry dog boy:** you’re just mad that she wouldnt want to keep the baby

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** FUCK OFF YES SHE WOULD

“Who’s ‘Ken’s number one fan’?”

Kentarou’s thumbs freeze over the screen, turning his head to the side. Shigeru’s looking at his phone over his shoulder, and he has a look of confusion and amusement on his face. Watari is on the floor next to Shiro playing Smash on the WiiU, and he’s yet to be defeated. His parents are off doing their own thing in their respective offices, and Shigeru is sitting next to him, waiting for Watari to fail again so he can have a turn.

Watari snaps his head towards them, his lips curving into smirk. “Since when did _you_ get so popular, Kyoutani?” He returns his attention to the tv when he hears Shiro launch Bowser off the stage, resulting in his sixth victory.

Kentarou scoffs at that. “He’s a just pain in the ass who won’t change his name because he knows it pisses me off.”

Shigeru raises and eyebrow at that. “How does something like that piss you off?”

Kentarou’s perpetual bitch face resurfaces for the first time since he’s been home. “Because every time I tell him to change it, he spams ‘nobody will replace me as number one’ for ten minutes.”

Yahaba nods, hand under his chin in thought as he says. “Sounds bad, but it’s not like he’s constantly clinging to you and making weird faces in order to scare girls away.”

The last part is obviously aimed at Oikawa who, for the past three weeks, has been harassing Iwaizumi in an attempt to scare away any girls interested in him. When confronted about it, he'd just flashed a disgustingly smug grin at them with an “I’m just trying to defend my precious Iwa-chan from those monsters trying to tear us apart”. As soon as he'd said it, Iwaizumi chased him around the gym for 30 minutes before Hanamaki and Matsukawa calmed him down enough to keep him from murdering Oikawa. Watari chuckles at the memory, and Shiro looks very confused but doesn’t say anything.

Everyone’s attention turns back to the tv, but Kentarou keeps his thoughts focused on Shigeru. He’s whispering to him now, like everything he has to say is for his ears only. It makes him feel tingly, like he’s been eating those cinnamon candies his father brings home from his business trips to America. What are they called again? Red Spice? No. Red Hots? That sounds right.

“If you’d have told me it was your birthday earlier, I could’ve gotten you a present.” Shigeru’s voice reminds him of Red Hots. It’s hard to describe, even to himself, but it does. He likes listening to it, likes the way it makes him feel inside.

“It's not that big of a deal. I don’t normally celebrate my birthday.” Kentarou likes his name. Shigeru. He’s said it before, the word barely a whisper in his pillow as he drifts asleep at night, and he likes the way it sounds. He tries to remember when he started calling him by his first name. His body feels a bit warmer when he realizes he can’t.

Shigeru’s chuckling- no, that’s not right. Chuckling sounds sort of… rough. Like something Iwaizumi would do. Shigeru’s is soft. Not a giggle, like Oikawa, it’s more of a mix between the two. All he knows is that he said something that made him laugh and it makes his heart beat a little faster than before.

“With the way Shiro was putting party hats on your dogs, I would’ve thought you had a party every year.”

Where are those knuckleheads? Probably somewhere upstairs. They’d gotten used to Watari pretty quick and lost interest. As long as they don’t cause too much trouble, he shouldn’t worry about it. He thinks about how close Shigeru is now. Has he always been this warm? Maybe he has, but he’s just never noticed it bef-

“Oh. Your phone went off again.”

Had it? Kentarou looks down again, and sure enough, Terushima’s sent him another message. He opens it, and he can feel Shigeru lean closer to him.

 **Ken’s #1 Fan:** bro open the door im freezing my tits off and i got cake

Kentarou furrows his brows. Why would he say that he had cake without letting him know the flavor? If it was red velvet he was kicking Terushima out. Kentarou stands, stepping around Shiro in order to leave the room. Just as he does, he hears a groan from Watari.

“How do you keep winning?! Donkey Kong’s the worst!”

“No he’s not! Don't disrespect him like that!”

Kentarou rolls his eyes as he unlocks the door. Terushima doesn’t say hello or give any sort of greeting, just walks inside, toeing his shoes off as he lets out a breath.

Rude, but he’ll let it slide.

“It’s cold as shit out there dude. I can barely feel my nips.”

“Sounds rough.”

“I know!”

Kentarou heads back to the living room, only to see that Shiro has a large frown on his face as he frantically mashes the buttons on his controller. He can see why. Shigeru plays a mean Samus, and he’s about to win.

Shiro’s eyes don’t leave the screen for a second. Not even when he grumbles an angered. “Why’s Terushima here?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Terushima sticks his head in the doorway. “Surprise bitch. Betchu thought you’d seen the last of me when I stole the last pack of Gushers.”

Watari starts laughing a little too hard, and Kentarou thinks he might have a seizure.

Terushima strolls into the room like he’s lived there his whole life. But as soon as he puts one foot in front of the couch, Shiro immediately jumps up and starts trying to strangle him, and he’s doing a pretty good job. Terushima looks like he’s about to pop a vein on his forehead, Watari’s about to have an aneurysm, and Shigeru’s trying to get Shiro’s little tiny fetus hands off of Terushima’s neck before he dies.

They hear two hard knocks at the door, and they stop everything they’re doing. His mother walks past them on her way to see who it is, and the look she gives them is of pure, unadulterated confusion. Kentarou pushes Terushima out of the way so he can sit on the floor next to Shiro, and he can hear his mother talking to someone, followed by the shifting of boxes. Shigeru has managed to pry Shiro away from Terushima, who’s gasping for breath as he leans against Kentarou. Watari is still having the time of his life though, and he’s getting a little worried that he might actually die.

Kentarou’s about to punch Watari in the kidney in an attempt to save his life when his mother walks into the room, with a pizza box and some wings. She sets the box down as his father walks in with paper plates and plastic cups, but she’s already out of the room. Kentarou feels a bit bad for his father’s obliviousness, but not enough to warm him.

As soon as he sets the plates on the coffee table next to the pizza, everyone leaps at him.

He does not survive.

\--

It’s a lot more calm now that everyone has food in their system. Kentarou is playing against Terushima in Smash, and he’s winning. His parents have gone back to their room, and everyone is focused on the game- or at least Shiro is. His eyes are glued to the screen to make sure Kentarou doesn’t lose, and if he does, he’ll be there to take his place in less than in a second. The atmosphere is calm, and Terushima sucks him into calm conversation.

“You know that bald guy from Karasuno?” Terushima asks suddenly, his attention never wavering from the game.

He nods, leaning back against the couch ~~he’s not doing it because Shigeru’s sitting behind him if that’s what you’re thinking~~. “Tanaka? What about him?”

“I was leaving the store the other day when I overheard him say something about how his team was going to take down the ‘City Boy Alliance’ at nationals.”

Kentarou’s hands stop moving on the controller. Donkey Kong is launched off the screen as he turns to look at Terushima. “Wait, so if there’s a City Boy Alliance, is there a Country Boy Alliance?”

Terushima stares at him. “I think he deadass made a Country Boy Alliance.”

They turn to the tv at the same time. “Not gonna lie, I kinda wanna join.”

“I was gonna say the same thing bro-”

“Nevermind. I don’t wanna join if you’re gonna be there.”

“Fuck off, I’m way more country than you!”

Kentarou makes a face. “How can you call yourself country when you’re afraid of cardboard cutouts, Kirby, and my dogs? If you were a true redneck you'd fuck'em up instead of bein' a pussy.”

Watari makes a dying seal noise in an effort to laugh, but he can’t function properly and just ends up making weird gasping noises- and not in the sexy way, Kentarou tells himself, because he would’ve let it slide if that were the case. Shigeru sighs and rolls his eyes, but Kentarou doesn’t miss the way the edges of his mouth curve upward. The joke goes over Shiro’s head and he just snatches the controller out of Terushima’s hands so he can play again. Terushima doesn’t seem to care, his face turning a bright crimson as he tries to defend himself.

“Fuck you! The eyes of the cutouts follow you, Kirby’s a freaky space cunt, and your dogs keep trying to get me pregnant!”

\--

“Was is _really_ necessary to kick Terushima out when you cut the cake?” Shigeru’s tone is of humor and disbelief.

True to his word, when Kentarou found out that Terushima had brought a red velvet cake instead of lemon, he’d sent him home with more than half of said cake. Watari had taken a rather large slice when he left, and Shiro had taken one bite before promptly falling asleep. But on his way out, the connoisseur of love had given him a not-so-subtle wink telling him to follow the plan they had discussed earlier. So being a 'gentlemanly gentleman', Kentarou is now walking Shigeru to the intersection where they normally part ways after school.

Shigeru’s hands are stuffed into his pockets, but Kentarou wishes he’d take them out.

“He knows I don’t like red velvet, so that fucker just got it for himself.” Kentarou hopes he can’t hear how his voice is off beat, how it lacks his normal straightforwardness. _Step one: walk him home. Step two: finesse him… how the fuck do I do that?_

They’re almost to the intersection, and Shigeru’s slowing down. Kentarou doesn’t realize that he’s fallen into step beside him until their arms brush against each other. He can feel heat rise to the tips of his ears, and when they come to a stop, he can see Shigeru’s cheeks are pink.

Shigeru whispers this time, smooth like lullaby. Kentarou leans closer so he can hear it more clearly. “Well, what kind of cake do you like?”

Kentarou whispers back, but it’s rough and doesn’t sound right coming from him. Even so, Shigeru’s leaning closer to him too. “Lemon mostly.”

Another whisper. “I could bring some by tomorrow.”

Kentarou realizes what Terushima meant when he said to finesse Shigeru, and it’s a perfect description of what he’s doing. He’s nowhere near good enough to be doing this with Shigeru, but he’s tricking him, making the him believe that Kentarou isn’t the guy with anger issues and emotional constipation that always skipped practice and yelled at everyone and made everyone hate him and-

They can feel the air between them shift, their breath catching. “I’d prefer if it were just you. Don’t feel like eatin’ anything.”

The kiss doesn’t taste good, Kentarou thinks. He hates the cream cheese frosting, and he finds the cake to be bland. But he’s more focused on how he has to tilt his head up to meet Shigeru since he’s not quite tall enough, how his hands cup Shigeru’s cheeks to hold him closer, how Shigeru grips his shoulders like there’s even the slightest chance he might run away, Shigeru, Shigeru, and even more Shigeru. It’s not fast, but it’s not slow either. They don’t separate for air, they keep their lips slightly parted and molded together the entire time they stand under this stupid flickering lamppost. It’s not slobbery or messy, their tongues barely touching when they’re bold enough to enter each other’s mouths. Enough to taste each other, but not enough to get heated.

Kentarou doesn’t notice how cold it's gotten until he pulls away to see little snowflakes getting stuck in Shigeru’s hair.

 

* * *

 

The next two weeks are filled with a couple dates and teasing from his family. And when he says his family, he means his father. His dad isn’t a homophobe or anything like that, he’s just… a dad. Whenever he sees Kentarou come home right before dinner with a nice shade of red on his cheeks, that asshole always has a “Have fun?” ready to make him run to his room and bury his face in his pillow in an effort to make the embarrassment go away. Shiro was just happy to have someone else to play Smash with, and his mother was overjoyed to know that her oldest son was getting along with someone well enough to want to be in a relationship. She even went as far as to extend an invitation to celebrate Christmas with them.

Unfortunately, Shigeru had plans already.

“My cousins invited my parents to go skiing, and even though I don’t wanna go, they’re kinda forcing me to.” Shigeru told him, expression filled with regret and disappointment.

They were sitting in an empty stairwell for lunch, and Kentarou didn’t know whether to feel thankful that his father wouldn’t be able to show Shigeru his baby pictures, or upset that he wouldn’t be able to see him for a week.

So Kentarou resolved to seeing Shigeru over the holidays through Skype at night. He shovels snow, he takes his dogs to the park, and he spends time with Terushima. Kentarou also spends a noticeably larger amount of time with Shiro, whose school life has improved drastically. Shiro hasn’t told him any specifics, but he hasn’t gotten beaten up in three weeks, so that’s a good sign.

But even though Shiro’s getting along better with the people around him, he doesn’t seem to be close to anyone. Kentarou can’t count the number of girls who’ve come to their house claiming to be Shiro’s friend in order to give him a present and try to confess, but he’s yet to see a single boy. Whenever he tries to bring it up, Shiro seamlessly changes the subject. He’s been able to avoid talking about it until Kentarou finds out what’s really going on.

He’s on his way to pick up Shiro from the park when he sees it. Kentarou spent the day playing Tales From The Borderlands with Terushima, and after crying his eyes out, he decided to make the trek home before it started to snow harder than it already was. He’s resisting the urge to step on the fresh snow in the middle of a garden when he spots them. Shiro’s got his hat pulled over his head and his coat is a little too big for him, but it should be keeping him warm.

Which doesn’t explain why his face his beet red while some angry kid with wild bedhead looks ready to bite his head off.

Kentarou resists the urge to run in and opts to hide behind a trash can in order to listen to their conversation. _Yeah, I'm completely invisible. I'm such a fucking idiot._  He’ll intervene when things get out of hand, but for now, he’s just going to do some recon.

“H-How was I supposed to know that? You kept being mean to me, callin’ me names and beatin’ me up and stuff!” Shiro sounds more flustered than anyone he’s ever heard, and Kentarou can’t tell if it’s out of fear or something else.

“It’s not something I can just say randomly, idiot! Do you know what it would’ve been like for me if I said something like that out loud?!”

He recognizes that voice, how it’s getting more impatient and angry with each word. Lifting his head enough that he see over the lid of the trashcan, Kentarou gets a good look at the boy talking to his brother. He’s a little chubby, but it’s hard to tell with the puffy winter coat he’s wearing. He has a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. Kentarou can tell how frustrated the boy’s getting, but he can’t figure out why. What kinds of secret would make him actively bully Shiro and then pretend the whole thing was just something insignificant, like it was just a smokescreen for something too terrible for words? Shiro may be forgiving enough to forget about it, but Kentarou certainly isn’t.

But contrary to what Kentarou’s seen from him, Shiro actually looks pissed. He abruptly takes a step toward the boy, who clumsily takes a step back in turn. It’s been awhile since he’s seen Shiro yell _at_ someone instead of just getting excited, so he’s stunned when he actually sees it happen. “No! And I still don’t get it! What’s wrong with-”

“Because boys aren’t supposed to like other boys okay?! That’s just how things are, and if you think otherwise, then you're as stupid as everyone says you are!” The boy’s rage is clear now. He’s taken a step forward, and his face is inches away from Shiro’s.

What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Just. Witness.

Kentarou’s struggling to put the pieces together as the boy’s sentence repeats itself in his mind. He almost misses what Shiro does in response.

Almost.

For the first time in his life, Kentarou watches Shiro punch someone in the face.

\--

Shiro is grounded.

Even after Kentarou explained to his parents what had happened after they sent Shiro to his room, they wouldn’t back down. He wouldn’t be punished for that long since he probably had more of a right to fight than anyone else, but they couldn’t condone his behavior. This to prove to the other parents that yes, Shiro did punch a classmate, but unlike the rest of you, we’re actually going to punish him. His mother and father agreed that his punishment would end on Christmas, but for the next two days, he was on lockdown; no going outside, no playing video games.

It’s twelve in the afternoon on December 25th. Shiro has yet to come out of his room.

His father has sent him upstairs to get the boy. The house doesn’t seem quite right without Shiro’s usual antics. He’s been quiet since his encounter with his classmate, and not in the way he would like. Not complaining about how shitty people are is one thing, but not acting like yourself because of someone else is another.

Kentarou knocks twice on Shiro’s door, hearing a quiet ‘come in’ that’s so unlike him it’s just… unsettling. He opens the door and steps into Shiro’s room. The boy is face down on his pillow, but he shifts so he’s laying on his side, facing him. Kentarou takes a seat in the middle of the floor, pushing a few toys aside. “You can come down now. Mom’s gettin’ worried.”

Shiro makes a small ‘hmph’ and crosses his arms. “Well I didn’t know that. Nobody came to get me ‘til now.”

Kentarou rolls his eyes with a grin, but it disappears as quickly as it came. “So, about that thing with your classmate.”

Shiro looks irritated as soon as he brings it up. “Oh. What about him?”

Kentarou rubs the back of his neck, mumbling. “Well I kinda… I saw what happened and-”

Shiro jumps up, his face a mix of shock and indignation. “You were watching?! What are you, a spy?!”

Kentarou eyebrows rise in surprise. “I’m not a spy.”

Shiro’s expression doesn’t waver. “You know what they call people who spy? Spies!”

 _Bars- wait, shit, this isn't the time to be rapping._ Kentarou holds up a hand to get him to stop. “I get what you’re sayin’, but I was worried about you little stoop. He beat the shit out of you every week, remember?”

Shiro immediately deflates, sinking back onto his bed. “Yeah… but I don’t think he meant it. He’s just bein’ dumb.”

“How so?”

“Because he said he felt weird bein’ around me, and he didn’t want anyone else to know, and it’s stupid!” Shiro’s breathing is a bit heavier, his face filled with pent up anger. Kentarou holds his arms up and gestures for Shiro to come over. He doesn’t even stand up, just rolls off the bed in a blanket burrito into Kentarou’s lap. Kentarou pats his head, listening to everything Shiro has to say.

“First he said sorry because he didn’t like bein’ mean to me and that he wanted to be friends, but when I asked if he wanted to come play Smash, he said no. When I asked why, he said it’d make him start likin’ me again, and I didn’t get what was wrong with that and then he got mad at me! But then he said boys aren’t supposed to like other boys, and that’s stupid!” Kentarou jolts when Shiro starts yelling. He just sounds so, so _offended_ , that Kentarou has to make an effort to try to calm him down, which doesn’t work because he sucks at calming people down even though he’s great at riling them up.

It takes him a few minutes, but Shiro stops huffing and hollering and squirming around enough for him to finally finish what he was saying. “I just don’t get it. You and Yahaba are boys, and you guys are happy and have friends and stuff. How’s that weird or gross? I mean, it’s a little gross when you guys kiss like mom and dad, but that’s normal, right?”

He doesn’t really know what to say about that. How do you explain to a kid that some people hate boys who love other boys- especially when that kid has been taught to love everyone?

Kentarou just tells him he doesn’t know and ushers Shiro downstairs. This conversation will have to wait until Shigeru gets back. It’s not easy being a parent in this generation.

 

* * *

 

Kentarou tells Shigeru everything that happened two hours after his plane lands on the 31st. He'd been pleasantly surprised to see Kentarou waiting at his house with his younger sisters, and had snickered when he saw Kentarou being used to test different types of blonde hair dye. Kentarou is sprawled out on a worn out bean bag in the middle of the floor when Shigeru sat behind him, applying a bit of spray to his hair before they remove the atrocious dye job. It was only when Shigeru started slowly combing his hair that Kentarou actually brings up what happened with Shiro. His ministrations get progressively slower as he explains what happened until they stop altogether. Kentarou’s about to move closer to his hand when he hears Shigeru sigh.

“I honestly don’t know what to say about that. Shiro’s a good kid, and I know that other boy might have thought he was… _abnormal_ , but that doesn’t make it okay for him to hide how he feels by fighting.” He sounds tired just from listening to the story, and Kentarou hums in agreement. “When you said things got kind of strange, I didn’t think you meant this strange…”

Kentarou nods, inching his head back towards Shigeru’s hand and the comb. “Yeah, shit was wild from start to finish.”

Shigeru resumes what he was doing. “I’m starting to think that Twitter is a bad influence on you, especially since you're pretty good at speaking English. Picking up all the American slang you see and using it without telling people what it means is a little disconcerting.”

Kentarou closes his eyes and focuses his attention on the light tugging of the comb through his short, tangled hair. “You always were a worrisome wife. I haven't decided if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Shigeru slaps his forehead. “Shut up, and why am I the wife? You're the one who likes to color coordinate everything!”

Kentarou opens one eye. “Do you really need to ask?”

All he gets as a response is a huff and a sharp pinch on his nose. They lapse into blissful silence for a few minutes, the only sound being Shigeru trying to work through a few knots in Kentarou’s hair. He’s all but fallen asleep when Shigeru brings it up, and he’s not prepared for it.

“Oikawa invited us to a party for New Years. This’ll be the first time anyone sees you without your signature hairstyle.”

Kentarou’s eyes snap open.

\--

“Yahaba-san must have you pretty whipped if you agreed to do something as out of character as remove your hair dye.”

The room is silent as the eyes of everyone in the room look back and forth between Kunimi and Kentarou. It hadn’t started out like this. Everything was fine. The old Seijou gang had gotten together at Oikawa’s insistence, and they were packed into the basement of Iwaizumi’s house. They would’ve gone to Oikawa’s, but his mother didn’t want anything to do with her son’s antics.

Surprisingly, nobody seemed to notice Kentarou’s change of style, him sinking into a relaxed state while he watched everyone mingle. His resting bitch face was nowhere to be found, and he wants it to stay that way for a little while longer. It wasn’t until about ten when Kunimi finally took the time to actually look at him on the couch did everyone notice what was different. Oikawa looked shocked that he hadn’t noticed it sooner, Shigeru was impossibly red, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Watari, and Iwaizumi are looking at Kunimi like he's grown a second head.

 Kindaichi just looks confused as fuck, like he doesn’t even know what’s going on.

Kentarou just shrugs, biting into his chicken. He should ask who made it, it was good. Maybe he could get his mother to made some. “My wife was always the demanding type.” Shigeru hits him for that. “And abusive, can’t forget that.” Another smack.

“But why is Yahaba-san the wife?” Kindaichi asking just made the situation a bit more... explosive. One wrong move and all hell would break loose.

Which is exactly why Kentarou says what he does.

“The same reason you and Oikawa are wives.” Kentarou’s face scrunches up in confusion when he looks at the meme team. “I don't know about them though, either one of them could be the wife to be honest.”

Watari the Dying Seal has come back to grace them with his presence, and Shigeru looks ready to strangle him.

Kindaichi is even more baffled than he was before and is asking Kunimi what that means. Kunimi can’t bring himself to say anything, waving him off. "It’s fine, don’t worry about it".

Oikawa is trying his hardest to get Iwaizumi to kiss him, puckering his lips and clinging to his arm. "Iwa-chan I’m your wife, you must prove your love to me". Iwaizumi is trying to shove him off, but it's not working, obviously.

The memes are trying out different sex positions to finally figure out once and for all who would be the better bottom.

Kentarou passes out for an hour and a half after attempting to commit suicide with fried chicken.

\--

He wakes up to the sound of Shigeru saying colors and directions and then a brief period of shuffling and complaining. Kentarou decides to let his imagination wander a bit, but promptly opens his eyes when it drifts dangerously close to some kind of orgy. The sight he’s greeted with is every person in the room aside from himself, Shigeru, and Kunimi playing Twister. It wouldn’t be as strange as it was if Oikawa wasn’t trying to throw cookies at Hanamaki.

Kentarou doesn’t bother sitting up, just pulls his phone out to check the time. 11:43. Huh. He didn’t think he’d be spending New Years watching an awkward game of Twister and wondering how his life led up to this point.

And he doesn’t know he’s said it out loud until he hears Kunimi snort. Shigeru rolls his eyes and reads the next move. “Left foot red. It’s you now, Matsukawa.”

Matsukawa doesn’t listen, just sticks his foot out to kick Kindaichi, making him fall into Watari who tips over Iwaizumi so he crushes Oikawa. “Don’t assault my husband you ugly fuck.”

Oikawa’s sputtering nonsense, trying to get Iwaizumi to get off of him. “I-Iwa-chan, you’re really fat... g-get off me before I die…”

Iwaizumi lets out a sound that's a mix of disgust and irritation as he stands, stepping over the pile of bodies as he walks upstairs. Kentarou sits up in time to see Oikawa following him. He nudges Shigeru, nodding his head at the stairs. “Bet you a can of soda they're gonna fuck.”

Shigeru snorts and bumps his knee against his. Kentarou sits up, bored out of his mind. He opens Twitter to see if anything's happening on the American side of things, and he's greeted with a guy beating the fuck out of a pineapple while a crowd of people cheer him on as if he were fighting another person.

_America's fucking weird._

He closes the app, gives Shigeru his phone, and lays back down on the couch. Shigeru looks hesitant, but asks quietly. “Can I put my fingerprint in here?” Kentarou nods and Shigeru immediately gets to it.

Taking a look around the room, he can see that Watari’s fallen asleep in a chair in the corner of the room, Kunimi and Kindaichi are curled up on the floor, and the meme team has disappeared, probably went somewhere upstairs to screw around or something. His eyes drift to the tv- when did they even turn that on, anyway?- and he can see the countdown in the corner of the screen while some shitty drama show plays.

11:58. Two minutes to go.

Kentarou has seen people on tv get engaged on New Years in places like New York. He likes to think that he’d propose on New Years, only to save himself the stress of having to think of a specific date ahead of time. He thinks kissing would have to do for now since he’s pretty sure giving Shigeru a Ring-Pop and asking him to officially get married, to officially become his husband-that-secretly-likes-being-called-his-wife, would be the end of him.

11:59. One minute left.

Shigeru sets his phone down, leaning against his chest. Kentarou gets the familiar warmth inside him again. Red Hots. He wraps his arms around him, feels Shigeru’s heartbeat against his chest, feels his breath against his neck.

30 seconds left.

“Happy New Year, Kentarou.” Shigeru doesn’t like to say his name when they aren’t alone, knows how it makes him uncomfortable. He makes an exception because he cares that much... and the only other people in the room are passed the fuck out.

15 seconds left.

“Happy New Year, Shigeru.” What he whispers next causes Shigeru’s eyes to widen and tears to pool at their corners.

 

_10_

 

Shigeru tilts his head up.

 

_9_

 

Kentarou cups his cheeks.

 

_8_

 

He wipes the tears away with his thumbs.

 

_7_

 

Shigeru brings a hand up to hold one of his.

 

_6_

 

Kentarou leans in.

 

_5_

 

Shigeru leans in.

 

_4_

 

Kentarou says it again and parts his lips.

 

_3_

 

Shigeru parts his lips.

 

_2_

 

“I love you too, Ken.”

  
_1_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. terushima kept gettin humped by dogs lol  
> 2\. Tales From The Borderlands is fuckin great  
> 3\. a little gay seven year old who can't deal with his feelings= heartbreak  
> 4\. yahaba is best wife


	9. Mukuro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro likes to learn, and even though it isn't always fun, sometimes it's necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a side series called Poison that I'll update when I need inspiration for this, because chapters that are at least 5k words is a lot of work, but I'm loyal, so I'm down for it
> 
> and before you ask, yes, I did have to look up how elementary schools and holiday breaks work in japan because Im just a dirty weeb who doesn't know anything. oh, and Im gonna work on updating old chapters since they're cringy and awkward, so the next one is gonna be up by valentines day maybe I think probably

While he didn’t consider himself to be smart, Shiro liked to think of himself as observant. He liked paying attention to the way people talked and acted, because that was how he learned. Watching and listening. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes less so. That said, he’d learned a lot of things in his six years of life, and he liked to rank them in order of both occurrence and whether they were fun or not.

It was fun when he learned how to walk when he was small. He was about six months old, and he could play with toys that were across the room without getting his hands dirty on the floor. The-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well was noticeably absent whenever he did something new, because she had been too busy spending time with Misaki upstairs to worry about him. Shiro didn’t mind because he wasn’t very fond of her, and she wasn’t very fond of him either.

It was fun when he learned how to climb onto chairs and get food from the table. He didn’t have to wait for the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well to give him mushed up carrots when she got off the phone talking to Misaki. Nii-chan tried to stop him once, but then he just watched him. Maybe that’s why he likes watching people so much now, because that’s what his brother had always done.

It wasn’t fun when he learned the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well had left after dad went to work one day, and nobody was there to help him down the stairs. When he’d gotten tired of waiting, he _had_ made it down, he’d made the long trek of easing his way down each step one at a time, but there wasn’t any food waiting on the table for him. Nii-chan didn’t say hi to him that day, and when dad finally gave him food and a bath, it was dark outside, and he was too tired from all his crying to want to stay up to play with his toys.

It was fun when he learned that dad was taking him next door, because that’s where he’d met mom for the first time. He was only a year old, and he’d wondered where she’d been for such a long time, but he was still happy to see her. She’d taught him how to say things besides ‘hungry’ and ‘nii-chan’ and ‘dad’. She’d wanted to avoid him having delayed speech, but he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. She smiled a lot more than the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well, and she smelled like vanilla and cherries.

It was fun when he learned that she was _officially_ going to be his mom, because even though he’d thought that’s who she was, he didn’t know she wasn’t part of the family since he hadn’t known anyone else besides the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well, and there’s no way she could be his mom with the way she acted. Mom had cried when he’d said that, so he didn’t like to talk about it a lot, even though dad said it wasn’t a bad thing.

It wasn’t fun when he learned that during most of mom and dad’s wedding, nii-chan was outside, talking on the phone to the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well. He’d heard nii-chan getting angry, and he decided to go back inside before he was yelled at too.

It also wasn’t fun when he learned that the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well wanted nii-chan to live with her, because what right did she have to take away his brother?

It was fun when he learned about things nii-chan liked, because then they could do some of those things together, like eat chestnuts when it got cold outside like those brothers on tv.

It was fun when he learned how to crack chestnuts by himself, because he could do it without dad’s help and then give them to nii-chan. He’d pretend that mom did it so he would eat them without knowing it was him, and he always felt warmer inside when he thought about it.

It wasn’t fun when he learned that sometimes this didn’t work, because he wouldn’t always eat them if he said mom cracked them.

It wasn’t fun when he learned that nii-chan didn’t like talking to him or playing games with him anymore, because when you’re four years old and have nobody to play toy soldiers with, home gets a lot more lonely.

The only thing he could think of that was the least fun was when he learned that nii-chan actually despised his very existence, and when he’d started yelling at him, he couldn’t figure out why. After all, it wasn’t his fault that the-woman-he-didn’t-really-remember-that-well didn’t like him, because he hadn’t done anything except live, and there wasn’t anything wrong with being alive.

It wasn’t fun when he learned that he didn’t like yelling at other people, because he’d just left Kentarou’s room without saying anything. Shiro didn’t like to think about it because he didn’t like calling his brother anything other than nii-chan out loud, but then again, Kentarou didn’t _want_ to be his nii-chan, did he?

It was not fun when he learned that his silence made Kentarou more mad, because he’d started throwing things at the wall closest to his room, and the loud noises scared him a lot, because wouldn’t the wall break if he kept throwing stuff that hard?

It wasn’t fun when he learned that making mom sad would make him sad too, because when he was being making noises that were a mix between sobs and screams in his room, she came rushing in all jittery and worried. She’d made a face that made Shiro even more sad because Kentarou didn’t really hate him did he, because they were brothers right, and he wouldn’t have looked so hurt and sorry if it were true, right?

But it _was_ fun when he learned that Kentarou would let him back in his room, because he gave him a hug even though his face was all snotty and gross. It was the only time he’d ever seen Kentarou cry, and he supposed that was a good thing since it meant his life was pretty okay.

Having discovered all of these things just by growing up, Shiro concluded that he really did love learning. He loved is so much that he’d assumed he would like school. School is where you learned things, and when he turned six (because mom told dad “Isuke, you’re having a senior moment, if he was born on or before the 1st of April he goes to school this year, not next year”) he finally got to go. And when he got there, he was pleasantly surprised-

Did he say pleasantly surprised? Because what he meant to say was that his dreams were crushed.

School had a lot of things Shiro didn’t like. He didn’t like how many people were there compared to daycare, he didn’t like the fact that people made fun of his brother’s hair (it was cool so he didn’t know why they said he looked like Barry Bee Benson), and he definitely didn't like that his teacher was absent for two months at the beginning of the year. She’d had a baby they said, and babies were a lot of work and she had to stay home to take care of it. The school wouldn’t let them be alone for such a long time, so this would be their substitute teacher, they said. He knew these were perfectly good reasons for their teacher being gone, but that didn’t mean he had to like them.

Shiro also didn’t have to like who they chose to take the place of their teacher. Mom had told him to respect the people at school, but he couldn't bring himself to fully accept this woman. He couldn’t understand how she was allowed to become a teacher when she was just so… so… he couldn’t even come up with a word he was so mad!

The old woman who came into class to teach them for the next couple of months made every good notion he’d held about school dissipate. She had a slight slouch accompanied by clothing that always had a strange smell hanging off of them, and her wrinkles set her face in a frown that never seemed to go away. She was quick to snap at him and his classmates, she had a shrill voice that made his ears ring, and she was overall unpleasant to be around. She was always telling him what he did wrong, always yelling at him when he made a mistake.

_Sit up straight Kyoutani-kun._

_No no, write_ this _way Kyoutani-kun._

_Pay attention to what the directions say Kyoutani-kun._

_Don't slack off Kyoutani-kun._

He didn’t like doing what she said, because it didn't feel right. All his friends didn’t have to deal with being told how do every little thing, and he didn’t want to deal with it either. But whenever he tried what felt natural so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself, he got yelled at, drawing even _more_ attention to himself. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong; he did his work, he was nice to his friends. It didn’t make sense to him.

But what made even less sense was why the words on his papers looked like snakes.

At first he thought it was a joke, something to make him laugh on the first day of school. But as the days passed and his teacher was kept outing him in front of his class, he tried to figure out what the words said. But no matter how hard he tried, they were always just snakes- squiggly lines that looked like they were clumped together. It was like they were cold and wanted to stay close to each other to keep warm, and he thought it was cute a first (when he started to get in even more trouble, they became less cute).

When he asked the girl in front on him to help during class, she agreed. She read the directions out loud in a voice that reminded him of the woman on tv who used words like ‘obligatory’ and ‘stagnating’, and he thought he would be able to follow along better since that’s what happened at home when he listened carefully enough. He’d hung on to every word as he stared at his worksheet, trying to match the words she was saying to those written on the paper. But he couldn’t do it, and the snakes refused to move. He opted to nod along as she spoke, and wrote answers that matched what the girl said using his left hand (the woman wasn’t in the room to tell him to stop). He ignored the snickers from the boy across the room who knew how stupid he was, because he didn’t need a reminder.

Shiro realized he couldn’t do anything by himself with the way he was now, but he couldn’t keep asking his friends to read everything out loud to him. It frustrated him, made his eyes sting and his vision blurry at the fact that he couldn’t figure out how to do his homework when he _knew_ what to do, but he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to write. He could read one of his picture books with mom at home without any problems, but when he was school, everything was so _different_ it just made him feel _wrong_. Nobody helped him, nobody looked at him, and the woman kept telling him what to do.

His friends weren’t allowed to help him anymore. He was supposed to do this himself.

His friends couldn’t talk to him in class, and it extended out of class too. Can’t have any extra distractions, can we?

The boy flung erasers at his head, and he couldn’t say anything because the woman would think he lied.

No matter how much he was punished, Shiro didn’t get better. The woman would still yell at him, his friends had become strangers, and the boy brought his friends from other classes to ‘beat some brains into him’.

It had gotten so bad that the woman started keeping him inside during lunch breaks instead of letting him roam freely like his friends. It annoyed him at first, but he thought it would help. She’d watch him work, tell him what to do, and ultimately give up since she herself didn’t have time to deal with him when she could be eating what she packed for lunch that day. One time he tried staring really hard at the paper and squinted to see if the snakes would leave for once, but all that happened was he spent the last five minutes of lunch rubbing cold water on his face to make the pain go away.

But Shiro liked to learn, and he realized that if he couldn’t learn at school, he would learn somewhere else.

He learned how to find tv channels that would help him, turning to nature documentaries to discover new words to use when talking or writing.

He learned how to find missing cats, dogs, and bunnies, because all you needed was to bring some cat food, fried chicken, or apple slices.

He learned how to paint fences since sometimes the rain would wash away paint that the woman who owned four cats said was there before he was even born.

He learned how to help some of the girls in his class find their way home after getting lost, but it confused him. Sometimes they lived ten minutes away, so he couldn’t figure out how they’d gotten all the way to his street.

He also learned how to avoid the people from school who wanted to beat him up, but sometimes the boy would find him and beat him up by himself. Shiro tried to ask how he found him, but the boy had flushed and swung his fist without answering.

But by far, the best thing Shiro had learned was that Kentarou knew some amazing people.

He didn’t know much about Oikawa and Iwaizumi other than the fact that they were volleyball players and they went to Kentarou’s school. He liked when Iwaizumi told him about being the ace, even when Oikawa had said something to make Iwaizumi mad enough to punch him. But out of the two of them, he had to say he liked Oikawa more- after all, he overheard Kentarou tell their parents that it was Oikawa’s idea to get him glasses, which was one of the best things to ever happen to him. They were only a little bit light blue; just enough to slightly change the color of his papers while also not being enough to distract him. He’d never been able to read his homework until the day he got them, but as soon as he put them on, the snakes were replaced with actual _words_.

Shiro wasn’t particularly fond of Terushima. He annoyed him a lot, and always did things he knew would make him mad. But even so, he’d always find a way to make up for it, like when he gave him a whole box of Gushers after he ate the last pack that one time (though that didn’t change the rage burning inside him whenever Terushima walked around the house like he lived there). Watari was great, and he’d play games when he came over sometimes. But out of all Kentarou’s friends, his favorite person was Yahaba.

From the first day he met him, Shiro knew that Yahaba was someone special. Kentarou didn’t bring many people home, so even though he’d gotten beat up and had dried blood in his hair, he wanted to spend time with Yahaba. He was a smart guy, and he was kind of… girly? No, not like a girl, but he’s just more, er, nice? If Shiro were to close his eyes when Yahaba wiped his head clean of blood from the small cut he’d had, he would’ve thought he was a girl. He wasn’t rude like the boys at school, or loud like he was, or brooding like Kentarou. Yahaba was more serene. He was quiet in the sense of not wanting to disturb the peace. Yahaba was so nice and kind and friendly that Shiro knew that Kentarou liked him.

Like, _really_ liked him. Like, he loved him.

It wasn’t very hard to figure out. Shiro learned a lot by watching them: how Kentarou would gravitate towards Yahaba when they were in the same room, how they held hands when they thought nobody was around, how they did it anyway even when they were, how they kissed each other when they walked just around the corner from where he was. If they were going to make googly eyes at each other they could at least have some pride in it. But it wasn’t really a big deal. He supposed the only real reason he was thinking so hard about it was to distract himself from class.

 

* * *

 

His teacher had come back. No, not the old woman, his _real_ teacher. Her name was Usami Najimi, and everyone was glad to be able to call her Usami-sensei. She helped then when they needed it, she showed the class pictures of her baby, and she’d even stand up for kids being made fun of. He was no exception, and she’d proven that to everyone three weeks ago.

The day he’d first worn his glasses to school also happened to be the day Usami-sensei had come back for the first time all year. Nobody in his class had anything else to day besides “it’s a good look for you Kyoutani-kun”, so he’d assumed it was fine. But apparently someone _did_ have a problem. He’d left to go to the bathroom, his desk holding neatly stacked books next to his lunchbox that had yet to be finished. When he returned, his books had been haphazardly shoved into his bag, his desk scrawled with kanji telling him he looked like an ‘educated goat’, and he’d almost laughed at it himself.

Educated goat. Heh. Hehehe- wait, no, that was rude! He had to find the culprit before they ate his rice crackers!

But the damage had been done. In the time it had taken for Shiro to get over his brief period of amusement, he’d taken a 360 degree view of the classroom before he finally saw it. The boy, sitting at his own desk, shoving those crackers in his mouth like he owned them. Everyone else in the room was too preoccupied with their own things to notice what had happened. Just as he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of _stop eating my frickin’ lunch_ , Usami-sensei walked in the same door he had just entered through. She took one look at his desk and the boy before she realized what had happened. The boy didn’t have time to come up with a reasonable excuse before she laid into him, scolding him loudly and grabbing the box from the boy. She’d pushed him until he stood in front of Shiro, the boy’s face both mortified and angered beyond belief, shouting, “Apologize to Kyoutani right now Mukuro!”

After a grumbled ‘sorry for writing on your desk’ and another ten minutes of lecturing, Mukuro was forced to clean his desk, and Shiro may or may not have been airheaded for the rest of the day since he’d gotten his revenge, though it was more indirect. He also may or may not have had a skip in his step on his way home. Of course, Mukuro’s parents were called in to address the problem, and Shiro just so happened to be on cleaning duty when people had already left. On his way out, he’d overheard someone talking to Mukuro, who was noticeably quiet.

“I’ll hear no more talk of you going where near that Kyoutani boy, do you understand Takashi? He’ll only get you in trouble!”

From where he stood a couple paces beyond their shoe lockers, he couldn’t help but be utterly confused. _Shiro_ was the good boy who always tried his best and acted respectfully with his classmates, not him, so why was _he_ the one bringing trouble? The reason didn't click in his mind until he’d finally registered the woman’s voice. She’d always hated him, so it made sense for her to tell her family to stay away from him too. And her warning had worked- Mukuro stayed away from him. No more flinging erasers at his head, no more beatings after school, no more anything. Shiro had started his normal life as a elementary schooler. Sure, the classmates he’d once considered friends remained at a distance and he’d never felt the need to talk to them, but that was fine with him. There wasn’t anything wrong with being alone. He’d do his work, he’d still do favors for his neighbors, and that’s how things stayed… for a while. Nothing really changed until the last day of school before Christmas break.

\---

The 22nd mostly involved discussing holiday traditions rather than actual learning. One person liked to go overseas, one person liked to build snowmen. Shiro didn’t really pay attention, and Usami-sensei didn’t press him or anyone else to talk if they didn’t want to. The entire school buzzed with excitement, and it didn’t help that it had started snowing even harder than it had been in the past couple weeks. Teachers had been doing alright keeping everyone under control until they got a call from the school board telling everyone to go home since the storm was picking up.

Shiro hadn’t seen anything as bad as the chaos that ensued around the shoes lockers- not even Kentarou’s volleyball games could compare to the sheer volume of the people screaming in joy or restlessness. He could barely pull his shoes in without the girls next to him bumping into him (but they’d always apologize with red or pink faces, so he never took it to heart). He’d managed to be one of the first people outside, and he tried to pull his hat over his face to protect himself against the cold. Students steadily exited school grounds, some going the same direction as him while others didn’t.

Winter break started a day earlier, as the snow was a lot deeper by the 23rd and schools had to be closed.

Shiro liked to play in the snow and walk down the less traveled pathways. There was nothing more satisfying than to be the first to walk on a fresh patch of snow. He knew he was going to be out there for a while, so he’d already told mom what he was doing. She’d asked if he wanted to wait for Kentarou, but he shrugged and left anyway. No use waiting for him to get back when he was going to spend the day at Terushima’s house. Actually, Terushima lived near a convenience store. Shiro was getting kind of hungry. He dug around his coat pocket and pulled out whatever what in his gloved grip. A paperclip, a pocket-sized pack of tissues, and ¥500. Cool, he had enough to buy a couple onigiri. Maybe they had peach water, but he had to see how much it was. They had a habit of raising prices for no other reason than-

“Oi, Kyoutani, could you wait- crap! Hold on a second!”

He’d heard a dull thump half way through that, so Shiro turned around to find out who would possibly be trying to talk to him when he’s just trying to get home. To his surprise, it’s none other than Mukuro, his easily identifiable bedhead telling him exactly who it is. It’s very strange. He’d never figured out how it managed to stay upright all the time, how no matter the weather, Mukuro’s hair never ceased to be perfectly sticky-uppy all day everyday. Speaking of, he was currently crouched over a few feet behind him, brushing snow off his pants as he stood up. Shiro wasn’t just going to ignore him, but something told him he should’ve just kept walking.

Mukuro trudged over, his shoes unfit for the amount of snow accumulating on the ground. Shiro was much more prepared, his black snow boots snug on his feet. They barely fit into his locker at school, but he didn’t care. They kept his feet warm, so he wore them whenever he could.

“T-Thanks for waiting. I know this is weird.” Mukuro was acting _really_ frickin’ shifty. His eyes never met his, and he kept moving from one foot to the other. “Do uh, do you wanna walk around together? N-Not like _together_ , just like, in the same area I guess? I mean…”

He’d started rambling. Great. Shiro couldn’t follow anything being said, so he settled for nodding and answered with a simple. “Okay.”

That shut him up pretty quick, because Mukuro stopped as soon as the word left his mouth. With that settled, Shiro turned forward, walking to the right of the boy who’s now silent. They moved a lot slower than he thought they would’ve seeing as they’re always eager to be away from one another. But they weren’t walking particularly fast- now that he thought about it, they were slower than if Shiro had just walked to the store by himself. He glanced at Mukuro. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the boy’s face was a little pinkish red. Weird.

They’d stomped their way through the growing amount of snow and Shiro would occasionally let out a deep breath through his nose to see in the cold air. He was like a chimney. He’d sucked in a large breath, and slowly released it through his nose, watching it billow out like a fog machine. He almost missed the thing brushing against his hand. Looking down he saw that it was Mukuro’s hand. He hadn’t realized they were walking that close to each other. “Sorry, I’ll move over-”

Mukuro’s head snaps up as his eyes widened a bit. “No!”

That made Shiro stop in his tracks. He hadn’t expected _that_ kind of reaction. Mukuro must’ve noticed the change, and he tried to correct himself. “W-What I meant was that um, uh, just trying to, uh…”

Alright, enough was enough. Shiro couldn’t stand how someone who’s normally so sure of everything they do would just stop and expect nobody to notice. It’d be one thing if he were trying to fool anyone else, but Shiro _wasn’t_ anyone else. So without wasting anymore time, be just asked. “Why did you want to walk together when it’s obvious you don’t like me?”

Okay. Maybe that was bit too blunt. Mukuro’s struggling to come up with what to say, his movements slowed down and anxious. He kind of reminds Shiro of a girl, they way they’d be nervous trying to conf-

Wait just a frickin’ second. Was th-

“I-I just… I like you okay?!”

Holy nutsack. Shiro doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t know what to say. But he wish he could’ve come up with something better than what he settled for. “Like, as a bro or a boyfriend?”

Mukuro’s face turns a bright shade of red and Shiro honestly doesn’t know how to respond. “I dunno! I just- being around you is weird and I thought _telling_ you would help!”

“But I thought you hated me.” He honestly doesn’t know what’s going on. How did they go from walking around to a sudden love confession? This was a lot to process in just five minutes.

Mukuro deflates. “I don’t hate you. I just… it’s hard to deal with this kind of stuff by yourself, you know? And it’s not like I didn’t wanna be friends or anything like that.” His voice had adopted a more reserved tone, and he seems a bit ashamed to be talking to him about this.

“H-How was I supposed to know that? You kept being mean to me, callin’ me names and beatin’ me up and stuff!” Shiro hears himself, and he realizes he’s more flustered than Mukuro is. But all of a sudden, his face changes, and they stand there, their expressions mirrored across the other’s face.

“It’s not something I can just say randomly, idiot! Do you know what it would’ve been like for me if I said something like that out loud?!” Mukuro looks embarrassed, but he sounds more angry than anything else.

Good. Because now that he thinks about it, he’s angry too. He’s angry that there’s something Mukuro’s not saying that he knows for a fact will make him mad.

He abruptly stepped toward the boy, who jolts back clumsily. “No! And I still don’t get it! What’s wrong with-”

“Because boys aren’t supposed to like other boys okay?! That’s just how things are, and if you think otherwise, then you're as stupid as everyone says you are!” Mukuro’s rage is clear as day, and he’s stepped forward, his face inches away from Shiro’s.

It takes less than a second to process the words, but already a millions thoughts had run through his mind. He’d thought of the boys he’d seen holding hands on the street, how the orange haired one had smiled brightly and the taller dark haired one had looked more content. He’d thought of the girls he’d seen share a brief kiss in the rain, how the blonde haired one’s face was so red he thought the girl with the glasses had killed her by accident.

But when he pulled back his arm and swung his fist so hard against Mukuro’s nose that he’d felt the crack and watched blood spurt out, he thought about how happy Kentarou and Yahaba looked whenever they were together, because there’s no way something like that shouldn’t be allowed to exist.

 

* * *

 

He still doesn’t get it. After everything that’d happened all that he got was a single lecture, a couple days on punishment, and a talk with Kentarou. That was it. No explanation, no apology from Mukuro, nothing. He could live with being punished and not being told sorry, but the thing that drove him up the wall was that nobody would _tell_ him anything. He’d asked Kentarou multiple times and had been brushed off. He’d asked mom who distracted him with feeding Godzilla and the dogs. He’d asked dad who just told him to ask mom, but that would just end up with him being shrugged off again. If nobody at home was going to give him the answers he wanted, he’s just have to go somewhere else.

He’d settled for trying to ask the only person at school who had the decency to try to befriend him: Minami Hana.

Minami was his neighbor, and he’d only found out last week when he’d left school on time for a change to see her walking down the same street as him. She was pretty, and when he said pretty, he meant _pretty_. She always wore the most beautiful dresses, and her hair color was a mix between chocolate and caramel. She alternated between wearing it in a braid or allowing it fall freely, letting it sway side to side when she walked. He liked it more when it was out though, just like it had been the day he decided to ask her about his problem.

That day just so happened to be the 15th of January, his birthday.

He’d gotten into the habit of walking to school with Minami. It was a nice change as opposed to his lonely treks to and from school after additional help from Usami-sensei. When he’d asked if she could give him some advice after school, she’d gotten a bit more excited than he thought she’d be. He would’ve asked at lunch, but she was in a different class and wasn’t allowed to spend the whole period talking to him like he so desperately needed. He had to sit through some of the most boring lessons they’ve had all year, and it took all of this strength to not fall asleep. He chose to ignore the eyes boring into the side of his head, just like how he ignored when the person to whom those eyes belonged had walked in with bandages on his nose and looked like he’d gotten the soul sucked out of him.

During lunch he ate quietly at his desk while he got a head start on his homework. When Mukuro stood and turned in the direction of his desk, he chose to go to the bathroom instead. It wasn’t that he hated him now- though he hasn’t always liked the boy either- it’s just the fact that he has yet to take back what he said. There were plenty of opportunities for him to have said sorry. Like when he was staying after school to get a special congratulations from Usami-sensei on how outstanding his vocabulary was compared to his classmates, when he’d made the effort to be one of the last people to put his boots on at the end of the day, _when they got put on frickin’ cleanup duty together_. But Mukuro was stubborn, and Shiro didn’t have a problem with that. He could be stubborn too. So he’d spent the day ignoring Mukuro just as hard as the boy had been avoiding apologizing. This ended up with them not speaking at all, and Shiro was fine with that. But when he’d slipped his boots on and started the walk home next to Minami, he couldn’t help but feel a sinking, cold feeling in his chest when he’d seen the betrayal on Mukuro’s face from the corner of his eye.

The first five minutes of the walk is silent. The crunch of snow under their boots makes him less anxious. Minami is the first to speak, but he isn’t surprised. She was nervous around him at first, but now she always starts their conversations.

“What did you need help with? Is there something wrong?” She sounds worried, and he can’t blame her. Shiro doesn’t normally ask anymore, it’s not like it was at the beginning of the year.

He doesn’t want her to be upset. “No, it’s just…” How was he supposed to word this? “Um... “ Whatever, he’d just spit it out. “How do you feel about two boys holding hands and going on dates and getting married and stuff?”

Minami doesn’t miss a beat. “As long as they love each other it shouldn’t be a problem.” She hadn’t hesitated. She hadn’t sounded mad or disgusted, only exuding confidence and refinement, standing tall with her hair swaying in time with each step. She halts suddenly, eyes swimming with concern. “Why, did someone say something about your brother? Shiro?” He realizes he's kept his gaze on her without uttering a single word.

He tries to bury his chin into the collar of his coat to hide his suddenly rosy cheeks. His voice comes out muffled, but she hears him anyway. “No, just wanted to ask. But I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk home with you tomorrow. I have to go somewhere after school.”

When they part ways on their street and Shiro walks into his house to be surprised with a party, he may or may not have cried a little when he saw Kentarou and Yahaba holding hands again.

\---

He’s not going to get an apology today, that much he is certain of. All that he’d told himself when he woke up what that he needed to do this, that this had to be done. He’d walked to school with Minami. He gone to class to. Mukuro avoided looking at him. He learned that cicadas fell off of trees and would stick to you if they got on your clothes, and during class a girl had almost cried when a boy pretended to put one down her shirt. He’d eaten his food. He’d done his work. He’d written a short poem (he thinks is was called a gaiku or haiku or something like that) to give to Usami-san so she could enter it in a contest. The bell had rung. He looked at the board. He was on cleaning duty with Mukuro again since the other boy hadn’t helped out last week.

He hoped this would work. He didn’t know what he'd do if it didn't.

Shiro stood directly in front of Mukuro’s desk as everyone was leaving. He was staring at him in shock, and even more so when Shiro just smiled.

“We’re on duty again. Let’s hurry so we can head home.”

He’d been reluctant, but one look from Usami-sensei and he was on it. They worked in silence. Shiro hadn’t had a problem with it, but Mukuro did. He was fidgeting constantly, knocking the broom over when he rested it to move a chair, knocking over trash bags he’d filled but hadn’t closed. Shiro didn’t press him, just did what he normally did.

Business as usual. Nothing strange going on here.

But Mukuro knew something was going on. When they were taking the trash bags outside, he looked ready to run. When they’d clapped erasers out the window, he looked like he was considering jumping out himself. As soon as they’d put the trash cans into their proper place in the classroom, he’d bolted… and tripped down the hallway. Shiro could’ve been mad, but… really? That was kind of sad. He walked over to Mukuro, who for some reason was still laying face down like the floor has the answer to all his problems.

“Are you ready to go?”

A sigh followed by a muffled, “Yeah.”

He holds a hands out, and when Mukuro takes it, he pulls him up. He pretends he doesn’t see how red the tips of his ears had gotten. He also pretends not to notice how he’s yet to let go of him, walking down the numerous hallways and stairwells until they reach their lockers. He released his grip to get his shoes before Mukuro did. Their lockers are only a row apart, but it takes Shiro a bit longer to yank his boots out before he actually puts them on. Mukuro’s already done and has walked outside. He’s at the gate and looked like he was about to leave, albeit reluctantly. It’s only when Shiro steps into place beside him and reaches for his hand again does he look more aware of what’s going on.

 “I- We- I can’t-”

“Let’s go.”

He’s pulled Mukuro so they’re walking side by side. The boy’s hands are sweaty, but Shiro doesn’t mind. He doesn’t think he minds a lot of things that Mukuro has done because it was all centered around the same problem. Well, he hadn’t though it was a problem, but Mukuro did. But Shiro liked to learn, and he’d learned that the best way to solve this problem was to face it head on. And by that, he meant he’d show him that people seeing two boys holding hands and liking each other in public wasn’t so bad. When Mukuro had tried to turn to take the fast route to his house, a gentle tug by Shiro told him they’d be going the long way. The more time they spent with their hands clasped together, the more relaxed the other boy got. His palms weren’t sweating as much, and though they were still cold, it was more due to the fact that it had started snowing again. It had been fine. Nobody had given them a second thought; no harsh words, no disapproving looks.

Until they were about to reach Mukuro’s house.

They had been so close. The house was right in front of them, not even two meters away, when they’d heard it.

“Takashi! Let go of that boy and go home right now! I’m going to speak with your mother and father about this, do you hear me?!”

Mukuro had immediately dropped his hand at that, his shoulders tense. They’d trained their eyes forward to find the source of the voice. It was Mukuro-sensei. Shiro would recognize her shrill voice anywhere. She looked furious, eyeing Shiro’s left hand as if it were the devil’s work (knowing her she probably thought it was). But even as she was yelling at him, she couldn’t have been prepared for what as said in response.

“Good ahead and tell them! You’re just mad that grandpa left!”

All she could go is sputter, trying to formulate something to put her grandson in his place. When she inevitably couldn’t, she turned sharply, slamming the door behind her when she went back inside.

They were the only ones left outside. There wasn’t any noise other than the indignant shouting of the old woman loudly ranting to her daughter and son-in-law.

“I uh, heard it was your birthday.” It was an awkward change of subject, but he didn’t sound bothered by it. Maybe just a bit apprehensive though.

Shiro just smiled. “Yeah, I just turned seven.”

“That’s cool. Now we’re the same age.”

“Really? When’s your birthday?”

“It was on the 13th of November.”

“I’ll get you something later this year then.”

There’s a bit of uneasy shifting before he says something else. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shiro nodded, and he wasn’t sure what he _thought_ he was going to say, but he doesn’t ask. He waves as they boy disappears beyond his gate, and upon hearing the soft shutting of a door, he turns to walk back home.

  
Mukuro Takashi wasn’t always loud, but when he was, Shiro liked being with him a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw:  
> -shiro not being able to read black ink on white paper is taken from the book Homeboyz by Alan Lawrence Sitomer (one of the characters is dyslexic and i fuckin love him and you should read the book but its about gang violence so be warned)  
> -everything else about shiro is made up
> 
> next chapter: a confession, a realization, a question, and a skype call


	10. Ryoko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kentarou doesn't like some of the things that come with being ace, and one of those things creates a bigger issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new chapter that's 10 days late? sign me the fuck up.
> 
> i didn't proof read this chapter and i'm already cringing, but i felt compelled to do some valentine's day shit for ken since he deserves it, so forgive me for this self indulgent piece of shit (its only here to intro a platonic relationship that im gonna need later lol)

School has been rough. He hasn't been paying much attention in class since he had to prepare for games, and most of his thoughts are plagued with volleyballs hitting the over side of the court. Kentarou was gaining quite the reputation as the team's ace, and he was glad he was able to live up to Iwaizumi’s example. But what he _hadn’t_ been prepared for were the effects that came with such a reputation, and the fact that only one out of three of events had made him feel happy about his new status set off alarm bells that maybe this wasn't as great as people said it was supposed to be.

Event One: Reluctantly accepted the fact that a man he'd soon learned was Shigeru’s father had said something that made his tosses a bit off and his smiles a bit dull. Shigeru said it didn't matter, and he’d barely managed to let it go until he cornered him to get an answer over the weekend.

Conclusion: Shigeru’s dad is a dick.

Event Two: Suffer a near death experience when Shigeru thought he was being sneaky when he'd whispered in his ear on the way home one Friday afternoon about what he'd let Kentarou do to show just how ecstatic he was that they'd worked so well together. Promises filled of things that made him quiver with anticipation until he was able to fulfill them.

Conclusion: They’re a lot louder than they thought they were, and Shiro laughs like a squealing baby pig.

Event Three: Strangers tried talking to him on the street when he was walking Yuzu.

Conclusion: People don’t know he’s socially inept.

Event three is what set him off. One of the most unbearable things about being the ace was the thought of all the people that started pretending they liked him just to get something in return. It made him _sick_. When he was younger he embraced the attention brought on by a tough match- he'd wanted people to notice him, wanted them to admire and care about him.

But he'd changed over time, and during his transition to ace, he realized he couldn’t stand being in the spotlight. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone.

It was suffocating, made his throat close up and his mind run on twelfth gear whenever hordes of strangers came up to him at school. Don’t get him wrong, he appreciated all the support the volleyball club was getting (God knows Kindaichi and Shigeru could use it given how often they question their abilities) but he _hated_ how fake all the people who came up to talk to him were, how they put him on edge with repetitive offers and identical masks of friendliness. Classmates who hadn’t even looked at him were trying to befriend him. Girls and guys he'd never seen before were trying to start conversations in the hall when he was on his way to meet Shigeru.

All of this happening in such a short period of time was so overwhelming that he couldn’t do anything except feel himself sweat as he waited for a bell to save him. He could feel himself getting sucked into a black hole, like he wouldn't ever be able to escape the judgemental eyes of the people trying to find out what he's doing and why every time he walks in a room, how this fame is squeezing every ounce of tolerance and motivation out of him. He tries his best to hide it from Shigeru and his family, but he can feel the little monster eating him up on the inside, making his body ache and head throb.

Kentarou reaches his breaking point on the 6th of February. It’s lunchtime, and he wanders the halls, skillfully avoiding those who look at him for a second too long. Shigeru was late to school today. They hadn't walked together, but he saw him in the hall earlier, so he knew he was here. He’s taken to being around Shigeru more often during the past couple weeks. He doesn’t have to think as much when they’re together because all eyes are on the captain more often than not.

Normally he’d meet Shigeru and their teammates at one of the tables in the cafeteria, but he forgot his lunch at home, and rather than try to fight his way through the line, he decides to make a quick stop at the vending machine for some chips or a soda- preferably both if he actually had enough money on him- before he heads downstairs to meet the others. He rounds the corner to reach his destination when he comes to a halt. Three underclassmen are giggling and talking amongst themselves in front of the machine.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about them. Actually, now that he thought about it, they kind of reminded him of bunnies. Skittish. Ready to run at the slightest movement.

And sure enough, one look at him sent the trio clumsily running away, bumping into each other as they escape his line of sight. It’s only when they disappear down the hall that he allows himself to scrunch up his face. _Well_ that _wasn’t weird at all_. He digs around his pocket to see if he actually remembered to bring enough money today, but he freezes when he sees it. A sticky note littered with doodle of kittens and dogs, kanji hastily written, but neat nonetheless.

_We love you Kyoutani-senpai! Keep doing your best!_

Kentarou wasn’t sure why this affected him so much. He may not have been used to getting compliments, but he’d never felt _this_ way before. It was irrational, and he knew it was, but he couldn’t help it.

His hands shake as he pulls the note off the machine. His fingers are cold, and he feels his chest squeeze tightly. His vision blurs slightly around the edges when he crumples the paper in his hand. He doesn’t realize that the endless chatter from the sea of people who were walking through the hall has dimmed since they either went to the cafeteria or another meeting place for lunch. He’s left alone in front of a vending machine, but he doesn’t fare much better by himself. His muscles are still tense, his head hurts. It’s hard to breathe even though he’s taking quick breaths, feels the fast rise and fall of his chest as he tries to figure out what’s wrong and how he can fix it, but he just doesn’t _understand_ , so he can’t _do_ anything except hope that the feelings go away or that a hole opens up in the floor to swallow him so he won’t have to worry about this kind of stuff because he can’t take much more of this and did his body turn into lead because he thinks he’s heavier than before.

He feels a hand on his back and a soft voice.

“Are you okay, Kyoutani-kun?”

Kentarou takes in as much air as he can, which isn’t much considering how tight his throat feels. “No. I’m not.” He hadn’t expected to say anything at all, but the gruff phrase escapes his lips before he can stop it.

He _also_ hadn’t expected the hand on his back to start moving in slow circles and the melodic whispering in his ear.

“It’s fine. Everything’s going to calm down in a couple weeks once the initial excitement wears off. Then you’ll finally get some breathing room so you can relax. You’re strong enough to hang on a little longer. I mean, you’ve survived this much already, so you _must_ be able to bear it.”

He hasn’t even looked at the person talking to him, but he realizes it’s a girl. A girl with a soothing voice and gentle hands. A girl who also happens to smell kind of good- no, scratch that, _really_ good. It’s not too sweet or sour or bitter, but it’s a strange combination of a whole lot of things that he can’t put into words other than _calming_. It’s a smell that makes him take deep breaths to steady his heartbeat and makes his shoulders relax and makes him clear his mind.

Kentarou doesn’t know how long he’s stood there, but when he turns to look around him, the girl is gone. He immediately decides to look for her- to at least ask for her name- and speeds down the hall.

“Ken, is that you? Did you get in trouble for sleeping in class again, you missed lunch! We waited for you, but you never showed up.” Shigeru sounds mildly annoyed, but Kentarou barely listens to what he’s saying. When he was going through something he couldn’t explain, he’d relied on a stranger. He’d been so wrapped up with her that he’d completely forgotten.

But he doesn’t think that’s a bad thing.

He realizes she smelled like a flower, but he isn’t sure which. He wants to find out though.

\---

Things get better after his meeting with Mystery Girl. Whenever someone comes up to him to ask if he wanted to hang out with them, he’d say that he didn’t have time between school and practice. He’d also taken to morphing his resting bitch face into a more neutral expression in order to avoid bringing any unwanted attention to himself for giving someone the stink-eye. He wasn’t entirely dismissive of his classmates, but he didn’t go out of his way to talk to them. A massive weight lifts off his shoulders when he no longer has to worry about what his every move would make people think and how they’d react. He finds it’s a lot easier to ignore people’s opinions about him now that he’s not bombarded with random encounters in the hall or when he’s trying to take a piss (the latter almost started a few fights, so he’s glad they stopped). He wishes he had a chance to see Mystery Girl again to thank her properly, but he never does. He hadn’t even seen her face, so the only thing he’d be able to recognize is her smell, which is fucking creepy because he can’t just start sniffing random girls and hopes he finds the right one.

The only problem besides balancing his homework and volleyball is a person. That person goes by the name of Ryoko Katsura, a girl in Shigeru’s college prep class.

He hadn’t even known she existed until he went to the library to meet Shigeru during lunch. It was only once, but Kentarou couldn't help but feel irritated that Shigeru was trying to study when they were supposed to be spending time with with each other their teammates. One step in the library and he already wanted to leave. It was just so _boring_. The books were alright, but the people there were so dull and lifeless that they almost made him want to kill himself. He scans the aisles of books to find Shigeru so they could leave before he could hang himself with his shoelaces, and he sees him.

Talking to a girl. Who's tucking her hair behind her ear and fluttering her eyelashes.

He recognized this. Girls who used to come visit Oikawa and Iwaizumi acted exactly the same when they were trying to get on their good side. _Well shit_. He could see the appeal- Shigeru was pretty and smart and everything Kentarou didn’t know he needed- but even so, he needed to let her know to back the fuck off before he had to snap her in half like a toothpick.

They’re having a really in-depth conversation about whatever book Shigeru has in his hands, so Kentarou walks over as quietly as he can without tripping over books people have rudely left on the floor to get his attention.

Shigeru’s eyes are full of the kind of passion that makes Kentarou’s heart swell. “I feel like the characterization was executed perfectly! It all built up until it unfolded at the perfect moment! My favorite part was when we finally learn why he decided to walk into the sea.”

The girl nods, her smile so sweet Kentarou feels like he's going to get a cavity. “It was amazing, wasn’t it? It almost broke my heart when I read it but-”

The girl notices him first and goes perfectly still.

Her eyes are a weird dark violet that could pass for a dark brown if you weren’t really looking at them, and he assumes they're contacts because he hasn't seen anything like them. They're hypnotic in a way, and he almost doesn’t want to tear his gaze away.

He thinks he recognizes that color, but he isn’t sure where from.

She clears her throat, stopping mid-sentence. “It seems you have plans, so I apologize for keeping you. Let's this continue this another time Yahaba-kun.”

When she walks past she makes it a point to look at him again. Their eyes meet, but only for a moment, and she walks down the aisle towards the library doors.

She smelled good. Really good.

_Wait._

Kentarou is ready to bolt after her when his eye catches Shigeru. He’s giving him a look of surprise and glee, and he stops before he can move.

Shigeru’s lips curve into a smile, his eyes shining. “Oh, hey Ken, I didn’t know you were here. Did you need something?” He’s got the kind of light in his eyes that he sees his father give his mother, the kind Iwaizumi gives Oikawa, the kind Kindaichi gives Kunimi.

Kentarou can feel his mouth twitch, and he’s probably smiling back at Shigeru given how he quick he is to walk over and take his hand. “Not really. I just wanted to see you.”

But even when Shigeru starts raving about the new book he'd gotten the chance to read, he still finds himself searching for the girl. She’s nowhere to be seen in the hallway after they leave, so he makes it his mission to find her.

He doesn’t have to look to hard though- he sees her everywhere after that.

He sees her in the hall, eyes following them as they make their way to meet Watari, Kindaichi, and Kunimi. She’s in the crowd of people who come to watch them practice, her face mixed in with the other girls who come to squeal for Shigeru and Watari. He feels her gaze on him and Shigeru when they walk through the front doors of the school in the morning. He sees her eyes glued to Shigeru when he peeks into their class when he goes to the bathroom during class.

Every time he turned his head he saw her. Hanging around their lockers, watching them practice, trying to follow them home. He was torn between wanting to keep Shigeru away from her in fear that he’d be more interested in her and wanting to talk to her, to have a proper conversation and maybe get to know her. He hadn’t had a chance to do either seeing as she was always running away the minute she saw him. He supposes it's for the best since asking a girl you've just met what kind of perfume she wears could be considered pervy, and asking if she had a thing for his captain would be kind of stalkerish. So he was stuck between trying to keep Shigeru himself due to his unjustifiable possessiveness and trying to find a way to initiate a conversation with a girl he at least wants to be on speaking terms. He’d even settle for a simple thanks, high-five, or fist bump before never talking to each other again.

He doesn’t get to do any of these seeing as she disappears on the 13th. Shigeru doesn’t mind, but Kentarou notices. He lets it go to focus on the next day.

Kentarou’s plan for Valentine's Day was to give Shigeru a present at his house. That was it. He walks with him to school, and it’s no surprise when Shigeru’s locker is filled to the brim with a dozen or so letters and little baggies.

Kentarou snorts, holding his arms out as Shigeru piles gifts into them so he can put his shoes away. “Well aren’t you a real Oikawa Junior. I thought it was just the hair.”

He rolls his eyes and slaps him, putting the letters in a neat pile in his bag. “Shut up. At least I’m not shoving them in your face like Oikawa-san would’ve, which I’m tempted to do now that you’re acting like a dick.”

“Well that language isn’t very Oikawa-like. I should call Iwaizumi-san to tell him you’re being emotionally abusive and make him get Oikawa to lecture you on proper captain etiquette.”

Two tugs on the hairs on the back of the head has a thoroughly amused Kentarou walking side by side with Shigeru to his locker. He’s shaking his head at the guys opening their lockers and crying in either excitement or loneliness.

Shigeru nudges him. “How many do you think you got?” He’s got that smug smile on his face and Kentarou rolls his eyes.

Kentarou shrugs, reaching to grab the handle. “Same as last year. None.”

Shigeru leans against the locker next to his, eyebrows raised and laughter leaking from his lips. “You don't sound too beat up about it. Don’t you want to know if girls are falling in love with you as soon as they lay their eyes on you?”

Kentarou spares him a glance as he opens the door to his locker. Shigeru’s wearing his blazer with all the wrinkles ironed out, and as always, it suits him perfectly. It’s befitting of the son of a businessman, and it makes sense that Shigeru has girls falling for his looks. He can’t imagine anyone doing the same for himself, with the way he looks uncomfortably shoved into his uniform and how he always finds an excuse to take his blazer off. So Shigeru’s implication that he would care if he didn’t receive anything is mindblowing. “Actually, I'm not into that stuff. I’m pretty fuckin’ glad that I don’t have to hurt my jack-off hand trying to write letters to give back to them.”

Shigeru’s laughter picks up at that, but when Kentarou reaches down to swap out his shoes, there it is.

A single letter.

He isn’t sure how to react other than pick it up and look at it. He turns it over, the smooth, the envelop crisp yet not making a sound between his fingers. It’s red. Fitting.

He doesn’t notice when Shigeru goes deathly quiet and stares at him. “Are you going to open it or just look at it?” Shigeru sounds a lot more nonchalant than Kentarou thought he'd be.

Kentarou just shoves it in his bag. “Later.”

Shigeru just shrugs and starts rambling about how his sister's forced him to stay up and help make chocolate for their crushes. But even as they walk down the hall, he feels how himself getting distracted. He knew who it was from, obviously, but it’s unlikely that it's anything romantic.

Or at least he hopes it isn’t. He'd rather get support than a confession if he was being honest.

“-so I’ll see you at lunch right?” Oh yeah. Shigeru was still talking. With a nod and the tiniest of grins ~~he doesn't get why Shigeru makes a face like him being happy is some rare occurrence~~ they say their goodbyes and part ways. When he sits at his desk waiting for the bell to ring, Kentarou can’t keep his mind from wandering to the letter.

The thoughts plague him, even when he's trying to solve equations in first period and aimlessly fill out English passages in third. His resolve cracks when he's given ten minutes of silence to complete a worksheet at the end of the period. He pulls out the letter from where it'd slipped between his notebooks, and it's still as pristine as when he'd first picked it up. The vibrant crimson keeps all of his attention, though one glance to the people next to him says they don't notice. It's captivating in a way he doesn’t realize, doesn’t notice how it makes his mind run a bit slower.

Or maybe that’s just the scent attached to it.

He opens the envelope as quietly as he can, pulling out the letter that was meticulously put inside. The paper fits without having to be folded, and there isn't much writing on it aside from a single phrase:

_I think we should talk. Meet me between the vending machines on the third floor at lunch._

There's no doubt about it. It's from her.

He waits for lunch though. He waits for what seems like years, because when the time does finally come for him to get up, he’s one of the first people out if the room. He's passing people in the hall, barely registering faces that he wouldn’t recognize even if he _was_ paying attention.

The vending machines don't have anyone around them, most students opting to make the trip downstairs to get some real food. As much as it embarrasses him to admit, he’s looking forward to this.

The soft footfalls heading in his direction cause him to straighten up. That's when he realizes it- what if this _was_ a love confession? _Fuck fuckitty fuck fuck fuck._

“Excuse me. Kyoutani-kun, did you hear me?”

He jolts when he hears the voice. He hadn’t realized she was right in front of him. He gives her his full attention, and sure enough, Ryoko Katsura is standing there, her perfume drifting through the air and sending soothing signals through his veins. Her eyes are still that beautiful violet, and he’s still trying to figure out where the color is from.

She'd just asked a question hadn’t she? Had he answered yet? Well she wasn't talking, so that probably meant no. He can barely keep his eyes open let alone come up with something to say. He had to speak slow just to make sure he didn’t trip up and do something stupid. “S-Sorry, what'd you say?”

A wave of the hand dismisses that. “It’s fine. I just wanted to know if you were feeling better, you were going through a bit of a rough patch the other day.”

Understatement of the year. “Yeah, something like that. I uh… wanted to thank you for talkin’ to me…” Maybe he could just ask her though. It wasn’t like he was asking what color her panties were, but girl's got offended by all types of shit, so he couldn’t be sure. “But I kind of wanted to know… uh…”

She nods, trying to coax the words out of him. “It’s fine, you can ask anything you’d like.”

Well she’d said anything, but did she really mean _anything_? “I just wanted to know what uh, what that smell… was…” Well he just sounded like a dick for saying it like that.

But she wasn’t angry or anything, just pulled out her phone with an expression full of kindness. “It’s lavender from the French countryside. My father bought me some perfume on his last business trip, but I’m sure you’d be more interested in some incense, right?”

He felt like the biggest retard on the planet. Lavender. Duh. That’s where he knew that color purple from, and that’s why he knew it was a flower. “Uh...”

She’s tapping away on her phone and he’s tempted to ask if she’s in the glee club- her voice could definitely win some competitions, and she could probably go pro if she wanted to. “I can send you the links to some incense on Skype if you tell me your name.”

“Why are you doing all of this?”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Of course the question had been bugging him, but he was going to think of a way to fluidly bring it up in conversation, not blurt it out randomly.

Ryoko was surprised too, her eyes wide and mouth open in a small ‘o’ shape. But then a mixture of embarrassment and realization spread over her features. “I… I thought maybe you would let me spend some time with you and Yahaba-kun. You seem a lot nicer than people say you are,” People still thought he was scary? He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, “and from what Yahaba-kun’s told me, the three of us share a lot of the same interests. I just thought you’d be interested in being friends.”

Oh. _Oh._ It’s as good a reason as any, and she seemed like she’d get along with Shigeru- that was why he’d been mildly concerned when she’d started paying attention to him.

 It still seems like she's hiding something though, so he's a bit hesitant when pulls oit his phone. "I guess I could add you on Skype..."

The uncertainty falls and relief floods her face as he relays the information to her. “Thank you, I’ve been meaning to talk to you abo-”

“Ken, you’re late again. If you’re making this a habit can you let me know so I don’t have to keep walking back up here everyday-”

Ryoko’s sentence if cut off when Shigeru rounds the corner. They both freeze. Shigeru’s looking between the two of them, and he doesn’t look _mad_ per se, he just looks… disappointed? Shocked? He doesn’t have the word for it because it doesn’t show. He’s put on his professional face, the overly polite one he uses when he’s talking to his father on the phone, and Kentarou can tell he’s done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” Shigeru sounds overtly calm, and Kentarou cringes internally. It’s so fake it almost makes him nauseous.

Ryoko doesn’t notice when she nods at them both, or maybe she does but doesn’t say anything. “No, I was just leaving. Thank you for speaking with me Kyoutani-san.”

She walks with her head held high and he can see the way Shigeru’s jaw clenches as she passes. They’re left in deafening silence, and he knows he should say something, but what good would it do? Sometimes being left alone is the best solution.

He tells himself that’s the reason Shigeru moves away when he tries to grab his hand and why he walks ahead of him without bothering to look back, why he doesn’t sit as close as he normally does when they get downstairs and he pretends everything’s fine when they’re with Watari and Kindaichi and Kunimi. It’s also why he doesn’t say anything to him during practice or in the locker room that isn’t related to what they’re doing, and why he leaves Kentarou to lock up by himself.

When Kentarou trudges to his house by himself, feeling guilty and alone, he can't forget how loud Ryoko had been, even though she spoke no louder than his mother.

 

* * *

 

“Trouble in paradise, Kentarou?”

Kyoutani Isuke is an asshole. That’s not true.

Wait, actually, it is.

But he isn’t a _mean_ asshole. He’s more of an annoying asshole, like Terushima.

Kentarou’s sitting on the couch, stewing in his sorrow as his dad sits in the chair to his left. It’s strange being in the same room as him without his hair dyed. They look too much alike now, and it’s unsettling. His dad has the same face, same hair, same build. The only difference is the eyes and the fact that Kentarou has yet to grow his hair enough to get a high top fade, but he isn’t sure he wants one anymore now that his dad has one.

He hadn’t told anyone that Shigeru would be coming over, his parents just assumed that he was. The minute he walked in the door alone they knew something had happened. He’d gone to his room without saying a word, his mother walking the dogs for him. They hadn’t said anything about it, not even when Shiro came in with his new ‘friend’ and talked animatedly about his “totally cool lizard named Godzilla”. Kentarou said hello to them both and closed his door. He’d make an effort to avoid looking in the direction of his bed, the gift he’d hidden under it reminding him of what he’d gotten himself into. He’d spent two hours doing problems and questions that would normally take him mere minutes. He was only called down to help set the table, and when he was done, dinner wasn’t quite ready yet, so he was forced to sit and wait with his dad.

Hence the interrogation.

Kentarou had never had to have relationship talks with his dad before; there was never a need for it. But now he was at a loss for what to do, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he needed his dad to talk to him.

Maybe not give him 'the talk', but at least help him.

He nods reluctantly. “Yeah.”

His dad is more excited than he should be an turns his body to face Kentarou, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands together. “Well what seems to be the problem son?”

Kentarou narrows his eyes. “What are you, my damn therapist?!”

His dad’s mouth drops into a frown. “Language Kentarou. You may be 17, but you aren’t too old to get that ass whooped.” He doesn’t know why is dad is getting mad when Kentarou’s the one who has to deal with this foolishness. “Now tell me why your little boyfriend isn’t here and why you two aren’t trying to suck face in your room! It’s Valentine's Day for cryin’ out loud!”

Kentarou groans and covers his suddenly red face with his hands. “I change my mind, I’d rather talk with mom.”

“What?! Why?! I’m great at giving advice!”

His mother pipes in from the kitchen, the dogs at Kentarou’s feet scrambling over each other trying to see if they can beg for some food. “No you aren’t.”

His father looks in the general direction of the kitchen with betrayal evident in his voice. “Umeko, you’re supposed to take my side!”

Kentarou doesn’t bother taking his hands away from his face and just sits there, waiting for dinner to be ready so he can eat and put this awkward attempt at conversation behind him.

But then his dad does something that surprises him. He actually tries to help him.

“But seriously, why isn’t Yahaba here? Did you guys break up or something?”

Kentarou peeks between his fingers to look at him. His dad is watching tv again, but he’s still paying attention to what they’re saying to each other. Kentarou tries to summarize what happened in as little words as possible. “I was talking to some girl in his class, and he’s been ignoring me since he caught us.”

That makes his dad raise an eyebrow as confusion spreads over him. "You goin' out with her or something? I may not be the type who avides by cheating, since I won't judge. You do you, kiddo.”

What? He was pretty sure he made it clear that he was pretty fucking gay. “No, why?”

His dad turns to him. “Because you said he caught you, like you were doing something wrong.”

That made him pause. Kentarou knew for a fact that he hadn’t talked with Ryoko about anything that would piss Shigeru off- quite the opposite actually. Wouldn’t making friends make Shigeru happy? He always used to complain about Kentarou only having Terushima and how he was a bad influence (he’d ask if he or Teru was the bad one, but he’d just said “yes”, which hadn’t answered the question). “She just said she wanted to be friends with the two of us. Plus she helped me out before and she gets along with him, so I thought it wouldn’t be that bad.”

His dad holds up his hands in mock surrender as he stands. “You don’t have to convince me, I’m not the one who’s pissed at you.” He makes his way over to the dining room as he speaks, yawning halfway through his sentence. “If it’s really bugging you that much, then try calling him. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.”

His father yells up the stairs to get Shiro and his friend, but Kentarou doesn’t move from his spot on the couch. He listens to the footsteps above him as they move in various directions before reaching the stairs. He listens to plates clatter against the table and the patter of paws against the floor as they trot to little beds. He listens to the phone ring before his mother picks it up. He listens to his father mother and father talk to one another, hearing voices but not the words that accompany them. He listens to his mother call him to the table, and when he finally traipses into the dining room to sit across from his Shiro, he tries. He tries to figure out why he can’t ask the boy with the wild bedhead and fiery attitude if everything is fine between him and Shiro. He tries to figure out why he can’t ask his little brother why he looks at the boy like they've been the best of friends for years.

He tries to figure out why he’d acted like he’d been spotted doing something bad instead of telling Shigeru about their new friend.

Dinner is far from quiet. He doesn’t manage to voice any of the questions he tries to because he can’t formulate coherent thoughts, but Shiro’s yelling and screaming and acting like, well, a little kid. He says some things that piss off his friend, and they take turns arguing until crazy bedhead boy gives in and lets Shiro have the last word. His parents don’t bother contributing to the conversation, just give each other weird glances and knowing smiles.

He clears his plate, puts his plate in the sink, pats the dogs, and goes back upstairs. Shiro’s still being loud, and it’s giving him a migraine.

He takes his medication and lays on his bed as he stares at his phone. He’d sent a few messages to Terushima, a couple to Ryoko, and one to Shigeru.

 **angry dog boy:** are you busy

He hasn’t gotten a response yet, so he assumed he was. It might be for the best though. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to say things right now. Sure he struggled to describe what he meant, but that was nothing compared to how he was right now. He couldn’t tell the truth without sounding like he was lying. He should probably give up for the night.

As soon as he sets the device next to him, it vibrates, and he snatches it in less than a second.

 **yahabae:** not really, no

 **angry dog boy:** wanna call

He waits anxiously for Shigeru to answer. Instead of a reply, his phone vibrates and a call notification pop up. It’s audio only, but Kentarou doesn’t care. He accepts it as soon as he sees it.

There’s shuffling on the other line, and it takes a few minutes before Shigeru says anything. “Did you need something?”

Still mad. That was fair. Kentarou stares at the ceiling, counting little specks of color here and there. “No. Just wanted to talk.”

Shigeru shuffles some stuff around. “Well I’ve still got some homework to do, so…”

Kentarou doesn’t say anything. He hears Shiro bound up the stairs, his screech-like laughter heard in the room across from his. “I can hang up if you’re busy.”

“N-No, it’s fine. I was just letting you know.”

Things get quiet between them. He listens to Shigeru move papers around and his pencil scribble down answers. He opens his mouth a few times to say something, but he doesn’t want to make Shigeru hang up on him. He’s content with sitting here in silence when he hears a groan. He sits up at that, eyebrows raised. “You okay?”

An irritated snort. “I will be if you tell me what’s up.”

“What do you mean?”

He makes a weird mix between a sigh and a tutt. “You keep opening your mouth and breathing in like you’re about to say something but you never do. It’s freaking me out.”

He hadn’t even noticed that he was making noise. “I don’t wanna piss you off again.”

“What makes you think I’m pissed off?”

“Well I mean… you _do_ sound pissed right now.”

He catches something slapping Shigeru, and he thinks he just facepalmed. “Okay, fine. But can you just say it?”

Kentarou gets up, stretching as he holds the phone up to his ear. “Ryoko wants to know if I can give her your Skype.” He takes a few steps towards his door when his foot cramps, the pain unbearable as he desperately pushes it against the wall hoping the pressure helps. “S-She wants to talk to you about books or movies or whatever.”

Shigeru goes mute, and Kentarou has to make sure he didn’t accidentally hang up when his voice fills the stillness. “Is that all she wanted?”

Kentarou chews his bottom lip as he waits for his foot to stop acting like a bitch. “Yeah. Said she wanted to be friends since she had so much in common with us. I get why she knows about you, but how does she know about me?”

Shigeru stumbles over his words. “I-I only mentioned you a few times! And it’s not like it’s some major event when I decide to talk about you. We _are_ dating.”

Kentarou smiles at that, but it turns to a grimace when he takes his foot away from the wall. It doesn't hurt, but now it's sore. “Yeah.”

“How did you meet her anyway?”

Before he can open his door, Kentarou stops. He _really_ didn’t want to get into this now. “It was nothin’. Don’t worry about it.” He steps into the hall, noticing how Shiro’s passed the fuck out in the middle of the floor in his room. His lizard is just sitting on him, staring at Kentarou with his beady eyes. The kid from earlier probably went home already, and Kentarou assumes they were feeding him shitloads of kale. Like Godzilla’s their scaly son. “Is homosexuality contagious?”

A pause. “What?”

Translation: Kentarou, are you actually retarded?

“I think I made Shiro gay. That fat kid who likes him is spending a lot of time over here, and I think they’re dating or something.”

“Really? Send me a picture of them together.”

“I’ll try, but Shiro always dodges the camera when I try to sneak pics of him.” He shuts his brother’s door, moving to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “He’s probably a ninja. A mini gay ninja.”

“What does being gay have to do with- wait, don’t change the subject!” His tone goes tight at the end, and Kentarou unconsciously ducks his head. “How’d you meet Ryoko?”

Kentarou isn’t sure he trusts this. It could be a trap. “Promise not to get mad?”

“Did she give you head? Did you have sex?”

“No?”

“Then why would I be mad?”

He stops in the middle of the hall, tone turning incredulously as he whispers into his phone so as not to wake anyone up. “You got mad when I told you to shut the fuck up instead of sayin’ bless you even after I said sorry like fifty times.”

“That’s in the past.”

“It was three weeks ago!”

“I know. In the past.”

Kentarou shuts the bathroom door. “Why’s this so important to you anyway?”

The line goes quiet for a bit, and Kentarou uses this time to brush his teeth. He can never brush long enough though, he always stops after about thirty seconds. He supposes waiting for Shigeru to say something should give him enough time to finish though. He hears mumbling on the other end, so he speaks around the foam in his mouth. “Huh?”

Shigeru puts his mouth right next to his phone just to spite him and Kentarou almost has a seizure. “I SAID I DON’T LIKE WHEN YOU HIDE THINGS FROM ME.” He can hear him move back as Kentarou chokes on his toothpaste. After the coughing dies down, Shigeru finishes what he was saying. “It makes it seem worse than it actually is, you know? I don’t want to know everything going on with you, but I don’t want to be completely in the dark.”

Kentarou swishes water around his mouth as he tries to figure out how to explain the events leading up to his first encounter with Ryoko. It was embarrassing to admit, but at Shigeru’s impatient ‘I’m waiting’ he finally says something. “I didn’t even know it was her when he first met.”

Shigeru sucks in a deep breath, and Kentarou honestly expects him to say ‘boi’ and start roasting him. “How do you meet someone without knowing who they are?”

Kentarou sees his cheeks darken in the mirror. “I don’t know! All I know is that I’m panicking in front of a vending machine and all of a sudden I smell some good shit! And before you ask, no, I don’t mean drugs.”

“Wait, so you mean you _smelled_ her and that’s how you recognized her?”

“Well I mean… yeah.”

“You’re actually a dog.”

“Woof.”

“I’m kinkshaming. I don’t know if it’s for the smell thing or the furry thing, but I’m kinkshaming.”

“First of all, you’re in no position to kinkshame after that time you told me you had a dream where I fucked you when you were wearing stockings and a dress-”

“You swore not to speak of it!”

“And second of all, the smell thing wasn’t even a sex thing. It was a relaxation thing. I was stressed and it just calmed me down.”

“... so it wasn’t sexy?”

“It most definitely wasn’t sexy.”

“Wow, big word. You must be serious.”

“Fuck you.”

Kentarou heads back to his room as he hears laughter. It takes a couple minutes, but Shigeru calms down. “You said it was because you were stressed right? Do you want to talk about it?”

He flicks off the light, flopping onto his back on his bed as he closes his eyes. “Might as well. Don’t have anything else to do.” He’s not sleeping. That is something he isn’t doing. “But it’s not anything special. Just school and volleyball.”

The latter surprises Shigeru. “Volleyball?”

His pillow feels lumpy. He reaches under it to feel around for whatever’s poking his head. “Not practice or games. Just the people.”

“What do you mean?"

He pulls out a can of Pringles from his pillow, and frowns when he realizes it’s empty. “People kept harassin’ me. It’s not like they were watchin’ us practice or comin’ to games, they’d just talk to me outta nowhere and pretend like we were friends. It was weird.”

“Ah. So it was all the strangers then?”

Kentarou throws the empty container, aiming for his trash can. He misses and knocks over a bottle of lotion. “Yeah. They kept followin’ me around and watchin’ everything I did, waitin’ for me to mess up. Someone tried to talk to me when I was takin’ a piss.”

“That happens to me a lot too. People always come up to me during the day even though I don’t know them, and there are always people judging what I do.”

People shouldn’t be staring at Shigeru and making him uncomfortable. That was _his_ job, _he’s_ the boyfriend. “You want me to fuck some people up?”

Shigeru’s laughing again. It’s nice. “No Ken, I don’t want you to fuck somebody up.”

Kentarou nods, but he remembers Shigeru can’t see him. “Okay. But if you do, let me know.”

“I will.”

“ ‘cause I care about you, you know.”

“I know Ken.”

“So you gotta tell me if something happens or I can’t help you.”

“Only if you do the same, okay?”

“Okay.”

“... Ken, are you asleep.”

“No… I mean I _was_ , but I’m awake now.”

“You should go to sleep.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno. Wish you were here though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Things are easier when you’re around. I don’t gotta worry so much.”

“Is that so... Ken, did you go to sleep?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“ ‘cause you’re here.”

“Ken, you need to sleep okay?”

“Okay. I love you, you know.”

“I know. I love you too Ken.”

“You gotta come over tomorrow though. I never gave you your present.”

“Okay Ken.”

“You wanna know what it is?”

“You should keep it a surpri-”

“It's one of those matching ring things everyone has now. It was so expensive I had to use all the shit I earned from my summer job. It wasn't worth it to be honest, but you had a real boner for it so I got it anyway.”

“Kentarou…”

“Are you cryin’? Because I can send it back if you don't want it-”

"No! I just... it's nothing.”

“... Are you still comin’ over tomorrow?”

“Of course I am.”

“If you don’t, I’m comin’ to your house, and your dad is a dick, so I might punch him.”

“I’ll be there Ken. Goodnight.”

“....”

“...Ken?”

“Hello?”

“Oh. Hey Shiro.”

“Hi Yahaba-san. Are you doing okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine Shiro. Is your brother asleep?”

“Yeah. Do you wanna come over tomorrow? We can play Mario Kart with my friend.”

“I might just have to take you up on that offer. But I’m kind of curious about your new friend.”

“His name’s Mukuro. He’s pretty cool I guess, and he beats me alot when we play against each other.”

“Well I guess I should make sure nobody takes my crown as king of Mario Kart.”

“Then we can all play together. We’re gonna need more pretzels though.”

“I’ll be sure to bring some with me. Now you should go to sleep Shiro, it’s late.”

“Okay. Bye Yahaba-san.”

“Goodbye Shiro.”

 

  
Kentarou doesn’t hear when his brother plugs in his phone charger or feels when he kisses his forehead, because he’s been asleep for the past five minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter is just about the kids, so if you don't wanna read it, then you can skip to the epilogue. it's not gonna have any dialogue, but it'll wrap things up  
>  
> 
> next chapter: shiro and mukuro show the world just how loud they can be when they're together


	11. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Takashi talk about the lord, and Shiro gets the feeling that he likes being around his friends more than he realizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. this isn't really about ken or shigeru, so it you don't like the kiddos, then feel free to skip to the epilogue (hint: it'll be up later tonight)  
> 2\. based on the Bible, through the eyes of my seven year old cousin (hint: he's a shithead but I love him anyway)

The Mukuro household is small. Like, _really_ small. Almost half the size of the Kyoutani’s. If he hadn’t known better, than Shiro might not even consider it a house with the way everything’s on one floor.

It’s the 4th of March, and it’s unbearably hot even though spring has literally just started, so Shiro’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt while his mother’s in a pink sundress. He’s made it a point to tell her how pretty she was at least four times already because he feels like she deserves to be told, and apparently Takashi has the same feeling, because he can’t stop staring at her. It’s getting kind of awkward. He wishes his dad or Kentarou were here, because then they could make some kind of weird comment to distract him from the fact that his mom is about to meet his best friends mom for the first time.

But alas, brother dearest is busy with volleyball and dad’s at work, so Shiro has to suffer all by his lonesome.

They’re still sitting on the couch, though it looks like the adults are about to send them down the hall or outside so they can talk by themselves. Which is exactly what happens when Takashi’s mom walks in. “Why don’t you take Shiro to your room? You can show him your new comics.”

The boy groans but does as he’s told anyway, leaving Shiro to obediently follow behind him. He spares a glance at his mother before he leaves the living room. She doesn’t look mad, but that’s not saying much. Nothing was showing. She wasn’t sad or angry or happy or impatient, just blank.

She’s much prettier when she smiles. She smiles when he hugs her. He wants to go give her a hug. He should do that, that’s a good idea. _Good idea, me. Thanks me._

Shiro’s about to backtrack so he can glomp his mother when he hears a voice bellow from down the hall. “C’mon Shiro-boke! You’re too slow!”

That was rude. He races after the other boy, rounding on him as soon as he reaches the open door. “Hey! Don’t call me boke, **Baka** shi!”

“What’d you say you-!”

“Takashi, be nice please!”

Shiro sticks his tongue out, and Takashi throws a comic book at his face. It’s pretty good though, and if he had the time, he’d actually read it. But a war’s been started, and Shiro intends to finish it. So in response to the challenge, he launches himself at Takashi, knocking both of them over. It’s a mess is what it is. Shiro’s trying to make him cry uncle by giving him an Indian rug burn, but Takashi’s still larger than he is, so he keeps trying to pin him to the floor.

The battle ends when Takashi sits on his back, making Shiro feel as though he’s going to die and his tiny ribs are going to break.

He has to struggle to sit up enough to force the words out of his throat with the last bit of air in his lungs. “U-Uncle! I give, I give!”

The pressure on his back immediately disappears, leaving Shiro gasping for breath as Takashi grabs the comic he’d thrown earlier. “I dunno why you act like you can win, you’re like a toothpick.”

He’s still coughing when he stands up, his chest sore and back brokenish. “That was rude.” It’s playful and teasing, so the scoff he gets as a response doesn’t bother him. “You sound like an old man.” When a pillow is thrown his way, he laughs, dodging it by dramatically falling to the floor, clutching his chest as though he’s been shot. The power ranger action figure behind him isn’t so lucky, and he is killed, unaware that the feathery mass was even coming his way.

The room is tiny. There’s a bed, an old bookshelf, a desk shoved in the corner, a door leading to a closet, and that was it. More empty than Shiro’s room, but it wasn’t _his_ room, so of course they would have differing tastes _He could as least get a rug or something, the floor hurts my butt._ He decides to help himself to the books littering the floor to take his mind off the pain. As he scans the floor for one to read, his eye catches one in particular. It looks as though it hasn’t been touched since it was put in this room, with it’s leather binding covered in a thin layer of dust and how it’s hidden underneath the shelf instead of on it. He doesn’t know why it’s there though, because the pages have these beautiful gold edges that make it seem as though the entire thing is some sort of treasure. Shiro reaches his hand under the bookshelf, ignoring how it brushed against something suspiciously wet as he grabbed the old book. He quickly retracts his hand and resists the urge to gag at whatever he just felt in favor of admiring what he’s holding. A hand brushes off the dust, and the slick, black cover shines from the light from the window. It’s almost like it’s never been opened, like there’s no way it could’ve possibly been tainted. But when he opens it to a random page, dust flies into his mouth, and he wishes for death at the mere thought of all the germs that have entered his body. _The book has betrayed me!_ He whimpers as he tries to force the disgusting particles from his system.

Takashi’s eyes snap up from the comic he’s reading, concern etched on his features. “You okay over there?”

Shiro only responds when he’s risen from his spot on the floor to sit next to Takashi, the book still in his hand. “I’m fine, but you should really take better care of your stuff. This is a fancy book!” He flips through the pages to emphasize his point.

But Takashi gives him a face that’s _very_ conflicted. He looks like he wants to be angry, but he’s too sad and confused to be able to truly feel that way. His voice even reflects that, more reserved than usual. “It’s not anything fancy. It’s the Bible. Most of the ones we have in the house are like that.”

Shiro’s curious now. He’s heard the Bible mentioned a few times on tv when he’s channel surfing, but he doesn’t really know what it is. But apparently, Takashi knows what it is, so now _he_ wants to know about it so then _he’ll_ know about its secrets and that means he’ll never forget it and that’ll make him smarter than everyone and pretty soon he can take over the worl-

“Woah woah! Dude, chill out! Back up a little, would you?!” Takashi’s freaking out for some reason, and it takes Shiro a minute to realize it’s because he’s directly in front his face. Red. Kind of like that gemstone on the jewelry his mother wears.

He relents, backing out of his personal space and back into his spot. “Could you tell me about it?”

“Huh?”

“The Bible. Could you tell me about it? I wanna know what’s in it.” Now he’s laying down, his arms crossed under his chin so he can look up at Takashi the Storyteller. The boy in question just sighs and stares at the leather bound pages, his own comic forgotten so he can focus on this instead. Shiro forgets how big Takashi is sometimes. In the winter he looks fat because of all the layers, but when he’s dressed in a short sleeve shirt and raggedy shorts like Shiro, he can say he’s not fat at all. A little chubby, maybe not even that. But everyone’s larger than him; he’s a twig in comparison.

“I’ll tell you, jeez, just stop lookin’ at me like that!” He’s staring, but not for the reason Takashi thinks but _he_ doesn’t need to know that, now does he? Shiro listens and stops staring, opting to look at the wall opposite him. There’s nothing on it, but it didn’t matter.

Takashi breathes deep, his whole body a little more tense than before. “It’s just about bein’ a good Christian and the history of God and stuff. I don’t know that much, only what my mom and grandma told me.” It’s kind of sort of probably hard to understand him, so Shiro scooches a bit closer so he’s right against his leg. That’s better, now he can hear just fine. “It’s like… there’s God and then there’s the devil, and they’re both tryin’ to keep the world in order. But God’s the good guy that tryin’ to keep order in a good way, and the devil’s doin’ it in a bad way. So they’re always fightin’ and stuff, and they both send messengers to try to keep the other out of the way. But God’s the good guy, even when he does things that are mean or unfair, or anything people don’t like.”

Shiro gives a confused huff at that. “But shouldn’t the devil be the one doing the bad stuff? Working together sounds like it’d be a lot easier than one of them trying to beat the other.” It was kind of like how Gods of poverty and Gods fortune worked together; not everyone can have money in order for the world to maintain balance, so they worked together to make sure it was equal ~~ish~~. But personally, Shiro didn’t think the Gods of poverty got as many people to make poor as the Gods of fortune got people to give more money to, but he supposes that’s okay since being poor would suck.

Takashi moves his leg a little, and Shiro almost gets kneed in the face. “They’re not _supposed_ to work together. God is supposed to be the one who punishes and rewards people, because he knows how to do it right. God knows how to punish people to make them understand why what they did was wrong. All the devil does is spread chaos and junk because he’s bored. Or maybe he eats people's bad feelings? I always get confused on that part.” His face isn’t as prickly or grumbling as it normally is. It’s a nice change.

Shiro nudges him. “What about the messengers and stuff? Do they help punish people?”

That takes some thinking on Takashi’s part. “I don’t think so. Maybe. All my mom tells me is that God sends angels to help out people in need and to get rid of demons. The devil sends demons-”

“What do demons do?”

“I could tell you if you didn’t _interrupt_ me.” A glare gets sent his way, and Shiro shrinks, his face partially hidden by the collar of his shirt. “Demons are sent out to mess things up. They can blend in as normal people, I don’t think that’s true, because my mom says that demons aren’t that smart.”

That sounds interesting. “How can you tell if someone is a demon?”

Wrong thing to ask. _Very wrong._ Takashi stands up so fast Shiro slams his face on the floor, making a sharp pain run throughout his face as he lets out a short, high pitched shriek, followed by groaning and him holding his nose. He hears his mother walking down the hall with Takashi’s mom, who appears, face like the Terminator as her eyes narrow, ready to strangle her son.

“What did you do?” And she _sounds_ ready to strangle him too, because Takashi’s about to pee.

“N-Nothing, he just fell!” Even as he’s explaining himself, his mom is advancing on him, and she grabs his head super hard. So hard his head is about to pop like a balloon if she keeps it up.

Shiro’s looking at his mom, and she’s looking at him, and honestly? He just wants a hug, because that _hurt._ Getting hit in the face always hurts, but when you aren’t being fueled by adrenaline in a fight, there’s no sense of danger to fend off the pain. He thinks his nose is bleeding, and when he reaches to feel it, his mom holds his hand while she dabs it away herself. He can’t look her in the eye. _I’m about to cry for hitting my face on the floor. How lame._ “Sorry mama, I fell. I really did this time.”

She believes him. He tries to sniff, but he can’t. The nosebleed wasn’t that big, so it’s probably started to harden already. “Be more careful Shiro.” His mom’s hands are soft, and she smells like cherries. He holds his arms up, and she gives him another of her smiles. Her arms send familiar tingles inside him, the ones that make him want to fall asleep and make him so happy he’s lightheaded.

Takashi’s mom lets go of her son’s head, and while he’s clutching it in pain, she walks over to crouch in front of him. “Let me know if he starts bothering you again okay? I’m not here a lot, but when I am, you just say the word and I’ll help you out.” Shiro doesn’t know how to feel about Takashi’s mom. She’s larger and talks with more force than his own mom, but she’s not mean. She’s just… _bigger._ A lot of things in the Mukuro family are bigger than in the Kyoutani family ~~minus the house~~ , but not everything is bad. He would even go so far as to say that some things are _better._

So when his mom lets go of him to leave the room with Takashi’s mom, he feels a little guilty for having gotten the other in trouble, albeit unintentionally. After all, Takashi’s mom is a lot bolder in terms of her punishments, and that head squeeze looked painful. Shiro crawls over to where Takashi is still clutching at his head and slumps against him. “Sorry for making you get head-grabbed.” He gets a grunt in reply, which sounds suspiciously like Kentarou for some reason, and Shiro scrunches up his face. “C’mon, let’s finish talking. I wanna hear about the demons, even if they are spying on us.” That gets a snort, so Shiro leans more of his weight,  which isn’t a lot to be honest, onto Takashi’s back so they slide to the ground, back to back. It’s a little uncomfortable, but whatever.

“They’re not spies Shiro.... okay, they _were,_ but not anymore. My mom said they stopped being spies because the things that made people know they were demons weren’t actually devilish, they were just normal things that were rare.” The space between their backs it kind of hot, and it’s making Shiro’s shirt sticky with sweat.

“What kind of stuff made people think they were demons?” He’s really interested now, and he pulls his knees up to his chest so he can hold up Takashi easier. He wishes he could get beefed up like Kentarou. He was strong. He could probably hold up a car if he tried hard enough.

There’s a bit of shifting against him, but Shiro doesn’t turn around. “At first is was just small stuff, like birthmarks or too many freckles. But then it got _really_ dumb.”

“More dumb than freckles and banana-shaped birthmarks?”

He gets a laugh for that. It’s nice. If he really thinks about it, it’s kind of like a firecracker. Short but attention grabbing. “Even more dumb than that.”

“So, what crazy things were they looking for?”

But when he continues what he’s saying, his voice steadily lowers in volume, so with each word Shiro has to steadily strain himself to hear. “It’s just stupid. Red hair... too much body hair… left handed… likin’ people who’re the same… as you…”

And then Shiro understands. The hate. The pushing him to change. It all makes sense. Shiro likes to learn, and he’s learned that Takashi hates talking about this part of his family, maybe even hates that he knows about it and is still the way he is. So he pulls them away from the Bible and Christianity and whatever is making Takashi tremble and cry, pushing him to talk about his parents instead.

Takashi speaks with pride about how his mother and father travel a lot because they’re journalists. His voice is wistful when he talks about his grandfather living in Okinawa with his new partner, how he likes to visit them in the summer so they can all spend time together.

As they sit back to back in that tiny room, the faint sniffling of the woman expressing sorrow filled apologies to his mother fades away, and Shiro is able to forget, just for while, that anyone except for the two of them exist.

 

* * *

 

Minami is popular. Shiro knew this already. She’s pretty, smart, and oh-so kind to everyone she meets, no matter how quiet she is.

Takashi is also popular. Shiro knew this too. Takashi was good at sports, and was always picked first when they played baseball or soccer.

Shiro was popular at the beginning of the school year. That changed when Mukuro-sensei started all that drama about her religion, alienating him from his classmates. He is not popular, but he doesn’t care. Really, he doesn’t.

School ends on Monday with the sound of the bell and the rumbling of conversations. He packs his bag as usual, considering if he should ask his dad if they can get a new book. Godzilla’s acting strange, so he wants to buy one about bearded dragons to see what’s going on. There are people crowded around Takashi’s desk. They’re going to play baseball. Shiro isn’t good at sports; lately he’s been told that he’s more brain than brawn and that he’s too scrawny to be of much use, so he waves a goodbye before exiting the classroom.

Minami’s classroom is three doors down, and it’s _very_ crowded. Almost dangerous even. It’s not even the fact that he’s scared of the people, it’s the fact that the sheer amount of them in such a small space is unnerving, like they were going to crush him if he so much as stepped foot in their space. He sees her from the doorway, but she’s with a group of girls, so he waves to her before continuing on his way.

He passes by people in the hall that he doesn’t know that well, but they’re still nice enough to say bye or nod at him, so he does the same. The stairwells are full of people standing around, so it takes longer for him to get to his locker to get his shoes. Boys who used to pick on him look over, but they aren’t malicious. It’s a simple acknowledgement of him being there, that he wasn’t just some dumb kid anymore, that he was actually a person like them that needed respect if they expected the same in return.

There aren’t any letters in his locker, and he breathes a sigh of relief. They’d stopped after he’d started hanging out with Takashi because apparently he’s annoying now. He’s a lot louder when he talks to his friends rather than when he’s talking to acquaintances. He’s animated and makes hand gestures and laughs weirdly and acts like he and his friend are the only people in the room. It’s fun for him, but for other people, not so much.

He’s trying to pull his shoe on without bending over when someone slaps his neck, the sound more pronounced due to the random bout of silence of the locker area. “Don’t leave without me, idiot!”

Shiro frowns, rubbing the spot as he successfully shoves his feet into his shoes. “Don’t slap my neck, **Baka** shi!”

Takashi grabs his ears and yanks, making his teeth clench because it feels like a crab is pinching him and it _really freakin’ hurts._ “What’d you call me Shiro-boke?!”

“Can’t you two go ten minutes without fighting?” Minami walks past them on her way to her locker, and Shiro takes the ample distraction to pull on Takashi’s nose.

“I wouldn’t have to if Shiro would listen to me!”

“Well maybe I’d listen if Takashi wasn’t always trying to fight!”

Minami purses her lips, and Shiro has to “Why don’t you call me by _my_ first name when you call Mukuro by his?”

“Well I mean-”

“It’s because he gets too embarrassed when he says it.”

His ears are too warm, which means they’re probably red. “N-No I don’t!”

Shiro can hear the tongue clicking of other people trying to get their things to leave, but it just makes him that much more elated to have people to talk to. Minami is giggling, and even though he wants to hide somewhere, it’s not because he’s sad or frustrated, it’s because he has people he can be himself around. He feels so amazing that he doesn’t care that he’s flustered and bright red and that they’re arguing about who his dogs like the best out of the three of them.

Shiro walks to the crossroads with Hana and Takashi, and when people give them vaguely irritated yet kindhearted looks, he thinks that he’s made his friends much louder than they’re used to being, and that none of them really care as long as they’re together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next: end of the beginning


	12. Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kentarou is still quiet, but his brother isn't. He thinks that's okay though, because he likes how loud Shiro is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. epilogue ayy lmao  
> 2\. no dialogue so feel free to skip this if you want

Kyoutani Kentarou is a quiet person.

That isn’t to say he never yelled or threw tantrums; he was only human, and humans made mistakes. From the time he enters high school to the time he graduates, he likes to let his actions speak for him. He lets his expressions show his frustration, his grades show his intellect, and his position as ace show his prowess. When something doesn’t go his way, he won’t yell at the person, he’ll groan or sigh because of the situation... unless you're the person that caused the situation, then you’d better be damn sure to run before he chewed you out. If his brother is having trouble in school, he’s the first person he comes to because he’s just that well-read and totally doesn't ask Shigeru to take over. When other teams try to talk shit because they don’t think Shigeru is capable of anything and could never live up to Oikawa, he makes sure to spike ten times as hard to show that that his setter is better than Oikawa could ever dream of.

But being quiet doesn’t just have to mean someone who doesn't like to speak, because he’s learned it can also mean a variety of things.

His brother choosing not to complain or cry when he was being bullied as a child can make him quiet. The way Shigeru had silently listened to Kentarou as he spoke of his childhood and what his family went through was quiet. The way his brother befriended his former tormenter without pressing about the boys god awful family situation can make him quiet. The blissfully silent congratulatory dinner the team is treated to when they lost in the fourth round at nationals can be considered quiet. The way Watari acted when Ryoko said she thought bald headed guys were cute can be considered quiet, if you don’t include the cackling of Shigeru and the upperclassmen that came to visit. The way Shigeru acted when he learned Kentarou was going to a different college can be considered quiet save for the faint snorting and hiccups.

Just as the word quiet can be associated with multiple things, Kentarou has learned the word loud can too.

The way his brother screamed when he was a baby, trying to get the love and attention he so desperately craved can classify him as loud, rowdy even, if talking to anyone else but his family. The realization that his teammates were willing to do what they needed to do in order to help Kentarou and his family, no questions asked and for nothing in return was loud. The voice-cracking, overjoyed screams that reverberated throughout the gym when they beat Karasuno and Shiratorizawa to secure their place at nationals was loud. Watari’s reaction when Ryoko officially asked him on a date was ear splitting. The teary-eyed goodbyes of the underclassmen when they graduated was embarrassingly loud. His brother blasting his newest airhorn filled mixtape was loud enough to make one of the dogs shit herself ~~and honestly, Kabocha hadn’t deserved that, because she was just trying to sleep~~.

When Kentarou told Shigeru the commute from Shigeru’s college in Murakami was only three or four hours from his own university in Miyagi resulted in Kentarou getting chased by an enraged Shigeru while he was laughing his ass off, which was so loud they were kicked out of the McDonald’s they’d stopped in to get chicken nuggets.

Kentarou discovers that labeling someone as quiet or loud doesn’t define who they are, because there’s just so much to people that it’d be a disservice to give them one name and end it like that.

Saying that his brother is loud just for talking in a higher volume than what is considered average doesn’t nearly cover the amount of things that make him loud. He’s bold enough to do things that other people wouldn’t have expected from someone like him, which he proved when he earned an award for winning a poetry contest in the fourth grade when nobody else dared to believe in him save for two of his classmates. He’s not afraid to speak when others are silent, which he proved when he berated one of his teachers for continuously picking on one of his classmates who had trouble reading a particular passage. He’s able to do a lot of things that people wouldn’t dare to try to do, and for that reason, Kentarou is proud to say his little brother is the loudest person he knows.

Kyoutani Kentarou is quiet, but a lot of things in his life are loud, and that isn’t a bad thing. His family, his friends, his brother, his boyfriend. All of them are loud in one form or another.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for suffering through my first ever fanfic no matter how cringy it got at times. This support is the kind of thing that some authors can only dream of, including myself, and the fact that it's real is only making me have an anurism from happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is centered about Ken's relationship with his friends and family rather than being kyouhaba centric, so... yeah.
> 
> update (28/8/2018): I'm gonna rewrite a lot of the scenes in this story to see if I can get rid of some of the skips/horizontal lines and actually flesh things out.
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gangstacrowtwit) if you wanna talk about random shit lmao


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